What Happens In Vegas
by Diva In The House
Summary: House/OFC. Sequel to Closing Time and The Waiting, picking up where The Waiting leaves off. House and Tricia begin to plan the rest of their lives together.
1. Chapter 1

**I was going to hold off on writing this one, but I just couldn't. As mentioned in the summary, this is the sequel to Closing Time and The Waiting, picking up where The Waiting leaves off. I don't own House or any other House character, just Tricia.**

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She opens her eyes the next morning, still finding herself curled into his chest where she had fallen asleep just a few short hours before. He is snoring loudly, typical for him. Normally she would be mildly irritated, but after the previous night's events, she welcomes the sound.

As she moves slightly, he shifts and snorts, pulling her in even closer as he does so. She places a kiss in the middle of his chest, taking in the scent of his soap and gently rubbing the small of his back.

He makes a small noise, and she can feel him press a kiss to the top of her head. "Morning." He mumbles.

"Morning." She answers.

They lay in silence for a few minutes before she squeezes him lightly. "Need to get up."

"Then get up." She spies a slight smile on his rough face. "I'm not stopping you."

"You're not _helping _me, either." She laughs in response, relieved that he seems not much the worse for wear from his night.

He sighs and releases her, rolling over onto his back and looking up at her. "Did you really say 'yes' last night?"

"I believe I did." She answers. "Why?"

He shrugs. "Thought maybe I was imagining it. It's happened before."

She knows he's referring to his delusions that had driven him to that institution almost a year ago. "No, you didn't imagine it." She leans down to give him a quick kiss. "I'm going to start coffee."

He takes her hand and brings it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss in the palm before releasing it. The move warms her, and she gives his hand a quick squeeze before moving off the bed and into the kitchen.

Her eyes are gritty after the late night, and she decides to make an extra strong pot of coffee this morning. Soft light is streaming through the window, and she can't help singing to herself. "_I can see clearly now…the rain is gone…_"

"_I can see all the obstacles in my way…_" His rumbling baritone joins in as she hears him step-thump into the kitchen.

She feels him place a hand at her waist and slide it around to rest on her stomach, pressing his lips to the top of her head with a soft sigh.

She squeezes his hand and starts the coffeemaker. "I thought you were going back to sleep."

"Couldn't." He mumbles.

She turns to face him, taking his hand in hers. "How are you feeling?"

He smirks. "Like a building fell on me."

She huffs and rolls her eyes. "Never mind."

He squeezes her hand and gives her a quick kiss. "I'm fine. Just sore. Nothing a hot bath won't fix."

She nods in response. "Coffee should be ready when you get out."

"Sounds good." He answers, releasing her hand and turning to leave. His step is much slower today, and she knows he's hurting much more than he lets on.

It's better for her to let it go. He'll take care of it in his own way, and hovering over him won't help. If anything, it irritates him further.

She moves to the refrigerator and searches for anything edible. As usual, there's not much here. It seems a quick trip across the hall is in order.

She opens the door to leave, startled by the man standing directly in front of it, apparently ready to knock. "Can I help you?"

The dark-skinned man's eyes go a little wide, apparently as surprised as she is. "Uh, yeah. I'm looking for House, but I think I have the wrong place."

"No, you have the right place." She smiles at his obvious discomfort.

A spark of recognition shows in the man's eyes. "I remember you. You cleaned up at the Vegas Night fundraiser. I guess I…just didn't make the connection."

"It's okay." She assures him. "Do you need him for something?"

The man shakes his head. "Just wanted to…you know, check on him. He…" He clamps his lips shut, as if he's revealing more than he should. Finally he speaks again. "Seemed like he was in bad shape when I saw him last."

She nods in understanding. "He's hurting this morning, but other than that, he seems okay."

"Good." The man looks visibly relieved. "I'm glad he wasn't alone. I was…concerned."

"I'll let him know you stopped by." She tells him.

"No need for that." He chuckles. "He'll just mock me anyway."

With that he leaves the building, and she continues to her own apartment in search of breakfast fixings. She settles on bagels, bacon, and eggs, collecting the items before making her way back to his place.

She has to admit that the whole back-and-forth thing is getting a little silly. Neither one of them is getting any younger, and things are going so well between them that it only makes sense to make it more permanent.

She smiles at the thought. Never in a million years did she think she would ever consider marriage again, not after everything she went through the first time around.

He's sitting at the piano when she enters, a cup of coffee on a coaster on top, and he's fiddling with something in his hand.

"What have you got there?" She asks lightly on her way across the living room.

He sets the object on top of the piano with a hard thump, and she turns her head at the sound. A pair of prescription bottles now sit next to the steaming cup of coffee.

She sets down the items on the coffee table and crosses over to the piano, puzzled. He glances up at her and takes a deep breath. "It's the last of my Vicodin stash. I kept it behind the bathroom mirror."

Something clutches at her at the revelation. "Are you sure that's it?"

He glares at her. "Why would I hide it from you?"

"I'm just asking." She assures him firmly. "Just in case there's some super secret hiding spot you forgot about."

He twists his mouth. "There…might be one more spot." He gestures toward the closet. "In the shoe rack. Blue Nikes."

She makes her way over to the closet, easily finding the prescription bottle. "Anywhere else?"

He shakes his head. "No, that's it. I mean it this time."

She sets the bottle next to the others and drapes her arms over his shoulders. "Any special reason you're doing your own personal drug sweep?"

He places his hands over hers. "Don't need them, don't want them around."

She laughs a little. "Aw…saved by a good woman's love. Oldest story in the book."

He snorts derisively in response before sighing slightly. "Maybe not _saved_, but…my life's a hell of a lot better with you in it. I want to keep it that way."

She squeezes him and drops a kiss on top of his head. "I like that plan."

He grabs her hand before she gets too far, pressing the bottles into her hand. She looks down at them, baffled. "I don't need these, either…"

He throws her an irritated look. "Get rid of them. I don't care how you do it."

She nods firmly, picking up the breakfast items and moving on to the kitchen, debating exactly how to get rid of the pills. Finally she remembers something she heard on a medical advice show once.

She finds a plastic bag and dumps that morning's coffee grounds into it, adding the three vials' worth of Vicodin before closing the bag and stuffing it in the trash. That task accomplished, she moves on to breakfast.

She hears him enter the kitchen and move toward the coffeemaker to refill his mug. As he does so, she hears his phone singing "Baby Got Back" in his pocket.

He seems to ignore it as he continues to prepare his coffee. The song continues playing, and he finally digs it out with a huff. "Yeah?"

He listens, occasionally rolling his eyes, punctuating it with an occasional "Uh-huh." Finally he nods firmly. "Thanks. You're too kind." He closes the phone with a snap and shoves it back into his pocket. "Damn right she's giving me the day off. It's the least she can do." He mutters as he stirs his coffee.

She smirks a little until she catches the thunderous expression on his face. "What's wrong?"

"My boss is evil incarnate." He tells her. "No different from any other day."

"If you say so."

"I do." He leans over and kisses her. "So…I did promise you some ring shopping today. Looks like I've got the day open."

"Good." She's allowing herself to get a little excited now. "Breakfast first, then shopping."

He nods, a slight smile gracing his rough features. "Given any thought to what kind of wedding you want?"

"Hmm…" She turns over the idea in her mind. "Well, we've been talking about going to Vegas anyway. Might as well tack on a wedding."

His eyebrows shoot up. "You sure?"

"Of course." She answers. "I've already done the big fancy princess wedding. No need to repeat the experience."

The smile grows wider, and he wraps his arms around her, setting his chin on top of her head. "Dragon Lady's going to shit bricks when I turn in another vacation slip."

She lets out a brief giggle. "Are you going to tell her where we're going?"

"Nope." He chuckles. "Think I'll surprise her when I come back with a ring on my finger."

She likes that idea a lot. "I think that would be a fantastic surprise."

"Yeah, me too." He drops a kiss on top of her head. "Hurry up with breakfast. I want to find you a rock so huge you'll be embarrassed to wear it."

She knows she's grinning like an idiot, but she doesn't care. Secretly, she likes the idea of showing off a big rock to his boss. She's met her a few times in passing, and they're perfectly civil to each other, but there always seems to be something bubbling just under the surface. A bit of jealousy, perhaps.

Part of her hopes so, and she's suddenly very much looking forward to the Vegas trip that they had only started to talk about. Now there would be much more to it, and she's thrilled.

She can hear him at the piano, the music drifting in through the entryway. His voice soon joins in, building volume until she can hear it clearly.

"_Viva Las Vegas…Viva Las Vegas…"_

She does burst out laughing at that. It's good to know that he's looking forward to this, too. They're moving forward, and it feels fantastic. It's a welcome change from the rough night, most definitely.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Yep, moving right along with this one. :) The muse is being kind to me this week. As usual, I don't own the sexy beast with the cane.**

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He hears her shout of laughter from the kitchen when he breaks into song. It's a welcome relief from the events of the night before.

He's having a hard time accepting his boss's apology for her behavior the night before. It was a stressful situation for all involved, but there was no need for her to be so harsh to him.

Performing that amputation was one of the hardest things he had ever done as a doctor, and watching the patient die had nearly undone him. Venting at one of his team members had done nothing to take away that feeling of hopelessness and helplessness that had threatened to overwhelm him.

He had felt he had sunk nearly as low as he could go as he called her from the ER. Something in him had lifted when he heard her voice. It didn't take away the feeling entirely, but the way she had rushed at him, tears running down her lovely face as she nearly knocked him over went a long way toward lifting his spirits.

Hence the way he had popped the question late that night. The idea had been on his mind ever since they returned from Mexico after an almost dreamlike week with no one but each other for company. Not only had they managed not to kill each other, but they'd had one hell of a good time.

He knew that she was in no hurry to marry again, seemingly content to continue their back-and-forth arrangement. Something in him made him antsy, however. He wasn't exactly getting any younger, and his body was bound to start rebelling against him even more than it already was. More than ever, he wanted to settle into some kind of domestic comfort with this woman.

He was genuinely thrilled when she had accepted, though he had tried to play it so cool. The trip to Vegas that they had started to talk about would come with an added bonus. He would come home with her as his wife. He couldn't wait to flash that ring in his boss's face.

For years he had flirted with his boss, chasing after her in half-assed fashion, and she never quite seemed to return his interest. He was still in crush mode when he had met that bartender and struck up a friendship with her. He hadn't thought much of it until he had returned from the institution and tried to pick up the pieces of his life.

The bartender simply took him as he was, in a way his boss never had. Her loss, he figured. She would have to settle for her boy toy, while he settled in with the real deal.

He smiled broadly at the thought as he stopped to take a sip of his coffee. They had a beautiful thing, he decided, and it was about to get better.

"Hey, Liberace." Her voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "It's food."

He pushed himself off the piano bench and grabbed his coffee mug, dishing up a plate of eggs and bacon and adding a perfectly toasted bagel before returning to the living room. She soon joined him, propping her feet up on the coffee table and nudging him lightly.

This was one of his favorite things about being with her. She was sweet, affectionate, full of laughter, and tough as nails. Most mornings found them either here or across the hall, lingering over coffee until he was almost late even for him. It was well worth it, he decided.

Soon they had eaten, and he cleaned up while she showered and changed. Usually he hated doing dishes, but there were so few, and the sooner they got done, the sooner she could pick out that ring.

She soon emerges, the scents of her various body products wafting over him as she passes through. "I put your mirror back up."

"Oh…uh, thanks." He feels a little foolish at that. It would have been a simple thing to do, but he was so focused on getting rid of his drug stash that he hadn't paid attention.

A short time later they're in her truck on their way to a nearby jewelry store. The clerk greets them with a warm smile.

"Good morning." The clerk starts. "How can I help you?"

He glances over at his fiancée, who is already poring over the selection of diamond rings. _His fiancée_. It has a nice ring to it. "Need a diamond for the lady."

The clerk nods and gestures for him to follow her to the end of the counter. She starts talking about the quality of each diamond, and how the diamond will appreciate in value.

His fiancée looks over at him. "Got a price range in mind?"

He shrugs. "I didn't get that far. Just pick something you like."

She stares at the case before tapping it. "That one."

The clerk pulls out a simple round cut solitaire and holds it between her fingers. "One carat, set in 14 karat white gold."

She slips it over her left ring finger and holds it up in front of her, glancing over at him with a smile. "What do you think?"

He thinks his heart just melted, but he won't tell her that. Instead he reaches for her hand, running his rough thumb over the shining stone. "Doesn't matter what I think. What do _you _think?"

Her smile grows wider, lighting up her whole face. "I think I love it."

That's all he needs to know. "We'll take it." He announces to the clerk.

The clerk beams at them as she takes his credit card and swipes it. She hands over the receipt while she bags up the velvet box that would have contained the ring if it wasn't already on his fiancee's finger.

After signing it, they're out the door, and she slips her hand into his. He squeezes her hand in response, and soon they're back in the truck and on their way back to the apartment building.

He guides her to the bedroom almost immediately upon arriving at his place. Euphoria is his drug right now, and he's flying high.

She laughs as she hooks her arms around his neck and pushed herself up on tiptoe to give him a quick kiss. He responds in kind, sliding his hands around her waist to rest on her lower back, pulling her in closer.

"You can do better than that." He growls in her ear.

"I suppose I can." She answers, pulling back just enough to unwrap her arms from around his neck to slide up his t-shirt.

He's still sore from the night before, but her touch feels so good that he doesn't mind. His hands move under her shirt, finding her bra and easily unhooking it before sliding around to cup her breasts, his thumbs lightly brushing over her nipples.

He hears her breath catch in her throat, and he moves upward to remove the shirt and bra. She easily complies, raising her arms as he pulls them over her head and tosses them on the floor.

He moves on to her jeans next, quickly unfastening them and shoving them off her body, along with her underwear. She manages to step out of them, shaking them off her legs until she is standing before him, completely naked and utterly beautiful.

If he could, he would pick her up and carry her to his bed. Instead he settles for nudging her forward until the back of her knees hit the bed and she lands softly on the mattress.

He wants nothing more than to completely ravish her, losing himself in her softness and warmth. However, his flesh is a little slow in receiving the message from his brain, so he lies down beside her, running his hand over her body as he takes all of her in.

How he got so goddamn lucky, he'll never understand. He chooses not to question that right now, leaning over her to kiss her, his tongue sliding into her mouth and sweetly tangling with hers while his hand wanders over her.

He breaks away to start a line of kisses down her throat, inhaling her soft scent as he does so. Finally his flesh gets the message his brain is sending, creating a stirring in his jeans that spurs him on as his fingers find her soft center, spreading the folds of skin and caressing gently.

She sighs softly, spreading her legs further and wrapping a hand around the back of his neck, her thumb stroking lightly. He tilts his head back in response, letting out a low growl before shifting so that he is bracing himself on his elbows over her, leaning down for a quick kiss.

"You know what that does to me, right?" His voice sounds oddly husky to his own ears.

"Mm-hm." Her eyes sparkle with mirth and desire as she slides her hands up the back of his t-shirt. "Why do you think I did it?"

She knows him too well, knows his triggers, and he loves it. He wiggles out of his t-shirt as she pushes it over his head, covering her with his body and pressing against her to growl in her ear. "You'll pay for that one, sweetheart."

"Hope so." She responds softly, working at his belt and jeans until she has them undone, pushing them and his boxers off his body.

He manages to shake them off the rest of the way, reaching into the bedside table for a familiar foil packet. She takes it from him, tearing it open while he rolls onto his back, watching as she covers him and straddles him, leaning down for a brief kiss.

He guides himself inside her, and he pulls her to him as they rock together, their breathing the only sound in the room. The pressure builds inside him, and he tries to hold back, but it's no use. He unloads inside her with a groan, holding her tighter as he rides it out, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck.

She's not there yet, and she sighs softly into his shoulder. He shifts so that he's sitting up slightly, guiding her off of him. "Get up here."

She gives him a questioning look, and he simply rolls his eyes. "Just trust me. Get up here and grab the headboard."

Her questioning look changes to interest as she does so, and he smoothes his hands over her, from her luscious breasts to her strong thighs and everywhere in between. He shifts again, arranging himself so that he is merely a hair's breadth from her center, pressing a soft kiss just above the hair that surrounds it, thrilling to the sound of her breath catching in her throat.

His tongue darts out as his arms wrap around her waist, finding the nub of flesh, and she gasps, spreading herself a little further. His hands come to rest on her rear, caressing and squeezing as his tongue sweeps over her, her growing desire evident in every sigh and moan that falls from her mouth.

One hand moves to her center, one long finger slipping inside while the other hand presses on her rear, bringing her closer for maximum contact. She lets out a higher pitched sound, moving up and down on his finger, and he slides one more in to join the first.

He feels her pleasure build until she goes over, muscle contracting around his fingers as she lets out a long sigh, relaxing against him. She slides down as he pulls his fingers out of her, still straddling him, and leans down for a long, lingering kiss, her tongue slipping in to meet his. Something about that thrills him, knowing her taste is still on his tongue as she does so.

She pulls away and moves to lie down beside him, throwing an arm and a leg over him while he pulls off the condom and disposes of it. He wraps an arm around her, the other hand playing with the diamond that now sparkles on her left hand.

Impulsively, he takes her hand and places it on his chest, right over his beating heart that is only now beginning to slow down. She sighs and curls closer.

"Are you okay?" She asks him sleepily.

"Just fine." He answers, a tiny lump growing in his throat. "Just trying to figure out how I got so lucky."

She lifts herself up slightly and looks down at him. "You're not lucky. You're just that good."

He laughs a little and accepts the kiss she gives him. "If that's your story…"

"It is." She tells him firmly. "And I'm going to keep telling it until you believe it, too."

He has to swallow hard to keep the lump from rising in his throat as she settles in on his chest. Her version will do until proven otherwise. He hopes that isn't for a good long time, if ever.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Yes, I'm an updating fool this week. :D As usual, I don't own the House guys.**

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She opens her eyes after a long nap, feeling refreshed and recharged from both the extra sleep and the activities prior. It's getting late, and she has to get ready to go down to the bar soon, but she isn't quite ready to leave him just yet.

He looks more relaxed now, as well, the fine lines smoothing out as he lies sprawled out across the bed. One arm is flung across the mattress, while the other hand is resting on his stomach, moving up and down with each breath.

She bends down to leave a soft kiss on his forehead, and he barely stirs under the touch. It's a good thing, she thinks. After everything, he needs all the rest he can possibly get.

He shifts a little, muttering something under his breath. Suddenly he's moving more violently, almost as if he's fighting an unknown enemy.

"You're not cutting off her leg." He murmurs, his eyes still shut tightly. "You'll kill her…"

Before she can do anything, he screams out, his eyes fly open, and he sits bolt upright, shaking and breathing heavily and staring at his hands. He looks over at her with an expression that breaks her heart.

"I killed her." He tells her softly, his voice shaking as hard as his hands. "If I'd waited…"

She climbs on the bed, seating herself on her knees behind him and wrapping her arms around his chest. She can feel his heart pounding and his breath hitching as he tries to get himself under control again.

There's so much she wants to say, but none of it seems right. Instead she chooses silence, simply keeping her arms around him and pressing her cheek into his back, waiting for the shaking to stop.

Finally he sighs heavily, covering her hands with his own. "Maybe you should stay at your place for a few days. Got a feeling this is going to happen a lot."

"No." She tells him firmly. "In for a penny, in for a pound, like my grandfather used to say."

He snorts derisively, absentmindedly playing with her ring. "Your grandfather was an idiot. You're still paying for the place. Might as well use it."

She kisses him between his shoulder blades. "You just popped the question and you're already trying to get rid of me?"

"It's not that." He responds quietly. "Just no point in you dealing with my…problems if you don't have to."

"Babe…" She lets out a sound of quiet exasperation. "We've all got problems. You deal with mine, I'll deal with yours. One way or another it'll all work out." She gives him a quick squeeze. "And I'll be back here tonight after I close down."

He holds her hands tightly to him, turning his head to catch her eye. There is concern, sadness, and a little fear reflected in his expression. "I love you." He tells her softly, almost as if he's afraid to put the thought into words.

The simple words melt her heart. "I love you, too." She presses a kiss to those lips before pulling away, rubbing his arms affectionately. "And now I've really got to go. I'll see you later."

"'Kay." She can feel his eyes on her as she dresses and quickly does her hair and makeup.

Soon she's out the door and in her truck on the way to the bar, his nightmare weighing heavily on her mind. She had known that he was downplaying everything that had happened the night before. He had to have been. There is no way his experiences only left physical marks on him.

He tried to tell her to stay away for a few days, but she knows it will likely be months, if not years, before the demons leave him alone. She still wakes up screaming from her dreams of her ex-husband tearing down her door, destroying everything in his path, including her beloved piano.

Before she knows it, she arrives at the bar, parking in the back and pushing through the back door. The afternoon cook nods at her as she greets him in passing, and she spots her brother at the end of the bar, chatting with a customer near the cash register.

He nods firmly at her as she approaches, a brief flash of concern in his eyes. "He make it home last night?"

She nods, keeping her hand behind her back, barely able to contain the still-new thrill of the object on her left hand.

"Good." He makes change for the customer and sends him on his way before turning to her. "Something's up."

She gives him what she hopes is an innocent look. "Nothing's up. Why would you say that?"

"Because I grew up with you." He tilts his head. "What's behind your back?"

She can't keep it from him anymore, and she slowly moves her hand to display the sparkling diamond.

"Huh." Her brother, as she expected, is taciturn in his response. "When did that happen?"

"He proposed last night, bought me the ring today."

He nods firmly, looking thoughtful. "You sure about this?"

"As sure as I can be."

He finally shrugs. "Well, there you go, then." He wraps her up in one of his patented bear hugs. While he doesn't show affection often, the quality more than makes up for the quantity. "Congrats, sis."

"Thanks, bro." She hugs him back, relieved that he isn't running to find the shotgun.

The night is relatively uneventful, save for a brief squabble at the pool table and a customer trying to go a little too far with one of the waitresses. She handles the situation with her usual tough chick routine. Predictably, the guy calls her a bitch and takes off, leaving no tip.

Before she knows it she's ringing the last call bell and filling the last of the orders, and then all is quiet as she starts her shutdown routine. She's been doing this for so long that it's almost automatic, and she's become far more efficient over these last several months, since a certain someone is usually waiting for her at the end of the night.

The bell rings over the door, and that certain someone comes limping in, his movements slowed by his thankfully minor injuries. She's surprised to see him.

"Hey, babe." She greets him warmly. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey." He eases himself onto his normal barstool. "Got bored at home."

"Really?"

He shakes his head. "No, not really." He tents his fingers, staring at them intently. "I didn't want to be alone."

She holds out a hand to him, and he looks up just enough to reach out and grasp it. "Do you want to go to my place tonight? I don't have a piano, but…"

"Doesn't matter." He pulls her hand towards him and plants a light kiss into it.

"My place it is, then." She tells him decisively. "Give me a few minutes to clean up, and then I'll be ready."

He smiles a little then, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I'll be here."

She squeezes his hand and releases it, returning to her work. Suddenly she hears him hop down from his stool, and she looks up to see him making his way over to the jukebox.

She's curious, and she pauses while she watches him choose a song. The familiar sound of a piano brings a smile to her face, and she leaves the rag on the bar, rounding the end of it to join him out there on the dance floor.

She would never come out and say so, but she thinks of this as their song. It's the first song they danced to together, and it was the song that made her start to fall for him.

He turns as she approaches, a slight smile lighting his tired face as he draws her close. She wraps her arms around him, resting her head on his chest and listening to his heartbeat as they move to the music, and she feels him set his chin on top of her head.

"I kind of always think of you when I hear this." He murmurs as he strokes her hair.

She pulls back a little. "Really?"

"Yep." His smile grows a little wider. "Lot of good memories with this one."

She couldn't agree more, and they dance with each other until the song ends, and she pulls away with a sigh.

He looks down at her. "Sure you don't have time for one more?"

"Not if I ever want to make it home tonight." She answers, pushing herself up on tiptoe for a kiss.

He eases back onto the barstool, and she offers him a Coke before moving on to finish her closedown. With that complete, she rounds the bar to give him one more kiss. "Meet you at my place?"

"Yep." He answers, sliding his hands to her waist as he returns the kiss. "See you in a few."

When she pulls up, he's already there, and she can see the lights on in her living room. She unlocks the main door and turns left instead of right, entering to hear him knocking around in the bathroom.

She enters the bathroom to change into sleep clothes, noting that he's examining the cut on his shoulder. "Everything okay?"

"Fine." He answers absentmindedly as he covers the cut with another bandage and expertly tapes it down. She admires the precision with which he works.

"Okay." She wraps her arms around his waist and presses a kiss to his back. The move earns her a small smile and the feel of his hand covering hers.

She releases him and changes into one of his t-shirts and her sleep pants before padding down the hall to her bedroom. He's not far behind, tucking in behind her and sliding an arm around her waist, taking her hand in his.

His fingers brush against the ring she still wears, and she hears him let out a low chuckle. "You're still wearing it."

She laughs in response. "Of course."

They fall silent for a moment, and she feels his lips press against the side of her neck. "You were right. This was a good idea."

She shifts closer to him as his hold on her tightens, and they're so close that she almost feels as if they're one person. Appropriate, she thinks.

He lets out a soft sigh, and she hears his breathing even out, his hold on her relaxing as he falls asleep. With any luck, he'll get a few good hours before he has to go in later. She hopes so, at any rate.

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He slowly opens his eyes when he hears his cell phone alarm going off, reluctantly unwrapping himself from her and rolling over to shut it off. In all honesty, he would just as soon stay home again today. However, reality has to intrude sooner or later. Might as well be sooner.

She stirs next to him, turning to her side and opening her eyes. "Going in today?"

"Might as well." He speaks casually, though he doesn't feel that way.

She nods and shifts so that she's sitting up, bending down to kiss him lightly. "I'll start coffee."

"In a minute." He wraps his hand around the back of her neck to pull her down again for a long, sweet, tender kiss, allowing his tongue to wander just inside her mouth. The idea that he might wake up like this every day for the rest of his life is almost more than he can wrap his mind around.

She lets out a little sigh before pulling away, pressing one more little kiss to his lips and stroking his cheek. Soon she's gone, and he's still lying in the bed, savoring the moment a while longer.

He finally pushes himself out of bed when he smells the coffee brewing, making his way out to the kitchen and capturing her between his body and the counter.

"So…" He murmurs as he presses a kiss to the side of her neck. "How soon can we do this thing?"

She laughs, tilting her head to accommodate his mouth. "Up to you. I can hand over the keys to the bar any time."

"Hmm…" He turns the thought over in his mind. "I'll check some travel sites when I get to work. Kind of want to do this as soon as possible."

She turns around to face him, hooking her arms around his neck and leaning against the sink. "Have you given any thought to our living situation?"

He shrugs. Truth be told, he was so caught up in the moment that minor details such as that hadn't occurred to him. "You could always move into my place."

She frowns thoughtfully. "That could work…for now. I wouldn't mind something a little bigger, though."

He sighs a little. "You mean like…a house? With a white picket fence and two point five children?"

Her face falls a little. "Maybe we can do without the white picket fence."

Her words catch him off guard. He never considered the fact that she might want children someday. He decides to shove that particular issue aside. "I'm good with that. Maybe I'll play around on some real estate websites, too."

She smiles a little, but the smile doesn't seem to quite reach her eyes. "Sounds good." She releases him, sliding her hands down his arms.

The conversation works at his mind as he gathers up his things and heads out the door, automatically preparing to ride his bike. He curses internally. He had left it behind at the disaster site when he had ridden back to Princeton in the ambulance. That was probably where his helmet had ended up, too.

The helmet would be easily replaced. The bike, not so much. He figures it got impounded, which meant a trip to Trenton to go after it. He would make some phone calls when he got to work.

In the meantime, he climbs into his ancient car for the drive in, his thoughts drifting back to his conversation in the kitchen. Did she really want children? He's not sure what to think about that. Never in a million years did he think he would ever get this far with a woman again. Thoughts of fatherhood are beyond his realm of possibility. He's too old, he thinks. Too old and too screwed up with his own daddy issues to even think about inflicting them on any offspring of his.

He pulls into his parking space and hitches his backpack over his shoulder, the tension building inside him as he enters the hospital. It's business as usual here, as if there had been no disaster at all, as if no one had died, as if no one had lost a leg, a life.

He tries to shake off the thought, the memory of his nightmare still burning in his mind. The image of the woman's face contorted in pain, her blood on his hands as he sawed through the bone, followed by the image of her face frozen in death stick with him.

Just what he needed, he thinks as he steps onto the waiting elevator. As if he didn't have enough to keep him awake at night.

"Morning." A male voice breaks into his dark thoughts. He turns to see his best friend standing beside him, his dark eyes practically filled to the brim with concern.

He thumps his cane on the floor and nods in response. "Morning."

He can feel his friend's eyes on him, inspecting him, worrying over him. Finally he lets out a short sigh and turns to him. "What?"

"Nothing." His friend blinks, seemingly startled. "Just…" He pauses, shifting slightly before speaking again. "Are you okay? After everything, I mean."

The elevator stops on their floor, and he steps out first, pausing as he waits for his friend to catch up before turning to face him.

"As a matter of fact…" His mood suddenly lightens. "I'm good. Really, really good."

His friend gives him an odd look, but nods in response. "Well…good. Glad to hear it."

"Yep. Couldn't be better." He wants to hold off on telling him his news, but he's bursting with the need to tell someone. Truthfully, he would shout it from the rooftop if it wasn't so difficult to get to. "We're getting hitched."

His friend's eyebrows almost disappear into his hairline. "Seriously? When did you decide this?"

"Night before last." He finally allows the smile he's been suppressing to take over his face. "You should see the rock she's sporting. She likes it so much she hasn't even taken it off yet."

His friend's expression changes from one of surprise to one of genuine joy, and he shakes his head as he shoves one hand in his pocket. "That's…fantastic. She's a great woman."

"Yeah." His thoughts drift for a moment. "She is." He shakes them off to return to the present. "Gotta go. I need to start checking flights to Vegas."

His friend rolls his eyes. "How romantic."

He shrugs casually. "It's what she wants. What the lady wants, she gets."

They separate and go to their respective offices, and he catches himself humming as he pushes through his office door, stopping himself with a low chuckle. Chapel of love, indeed.

There's a file on his desk with a Post-It note attached, and he picks it up after hanging up his jacket and backpack. The note is in his boss's handwriting, and he wonders if she is trying to avoid him somehow.

No matter, he decides as he picks up the file and starts to flip through it. From the looks of things, he has something far more important than his boss's behavior to think about.

# # #

**And now it's back to you. Read and review.**


	4. Chapter 4

**You know the routine by now. I don't own any of the House characters, don't make any money off them.**

# # #

He pushes through the conference room to see three men sitting around the table. Two are engaged in casual conversation over coffee, another has his nose buried deep in a medical journal.

After a quick head count, he speaks up. "Good morning, Bald, Black, and Blond. Where's Bi?"

The bald man speaks first. "She's taking some time off. Said she left it on your desk."

He frowns, trying to remember if he saw anything under the file. Finally he shakes his head, tossing copies of the file around the table. "New case. Get a history and start rerunning tests. You know, the usual."

After pouring himself a cup of coffee, he returns to his office, finding the notice on his desk, as he was told. He sighs a little as he sticks it in his desk drawer, reminding himself to drop it off with his boss later. Perhaps he would drop it off when he dropped off his vacation slip. The thought makes him smile a little.

He sits down at his desk with renewed vigor, opening his Internet browser and typing a travel site into the address bar. There's some good deals, and he clicks on a few of them, a little thrill coursing through him as the plan starts to come together.

The team comes in a short time later, discussing theories and treatments, but his mind is wandering, wondering just how soon he can fill out that slip and get the hell away from the Three Stooges.

"House?" The blond one is talking to him. "What do you think?"

"Fine." He waves his hand dismissively. "Start treatment."

The blond gives him a funny look. "We were planning on doing an MRI."

"Oh." He's suddenly a little embarrassed. "Right. Well then…do the MRI. Just like I told you."

The blond and the bald give each other an amused look before turning to leave. Only the black stays behind, staring down at him with his arms folded over his chest.

"Stopped by your place today."

He glances up at him. "You're still here. Go join Larry and Curly."

The neurologist huffs. "Your girl answered the door. Didn't know she was living with you."

He rolls his eyes. "She's not." He smiles a little. "Not yet, anyway."

The neurologist arches an eyebrow. "Not yet?"

"Planning a trip to Vegas." He explains. "Figured, what the hell, let's get married while we're there."

The neurologist looks unsure. "Uh…congratulations?"

"Uh, _thanks_?" He mocks him before waving a dismissive hand at him. "Now then, go join your little friends. Don't come back until you find something interesting."

The neurologist leaves, and he sinks back in his chair with an irritated huff. He knows he a difficult man to deal with even on his best days, but the reactions to what could well be one of the best things to happen to him still disappoint him.

Screw them, he thinks as he returns to his research. At least one person is as thrilled as he is. He decides to give her a call now that he's put a package together.

"Hey, babe."

"Hey." He replies. "Guess what I put together?"

He goes into great detail, discussing the hotel that's right on the strip, the tickets to that Cirque du Soleil that she finds so damned fascinating, right down to a couple of possible wedding chapels.

"Sounds great, babe." She tells him. "So when to we bail out of here?"

"Pick a date."

She gives him a date about three weeks away, and he nods firmly as he scribbles it down. "I'm filling out that slip right now." He ponders for a moment. "Can you take a picture of that rock you're sporting? Need to show the boss some proof."

She laughs heartily. "If I thought you were serious, I would."

"I am."

There is silence for a moment. "I'm on it. Watch your phone for a picture message." Another pause, followed by a girlish giggle. "We're getting married!"

He chuckles as he snaps his phone closed, holding in his hand while he finds a vacation slip in his desk and starts filling it out. A chime indicates a new message, and he opens his phone to check.

It's stunning, even on the tiny screen of his phone. The diamond dominates, sending out rays of light that highlight its beauty. He smirks and tucks the phone in his pocket, pushing himself out of his desk chair and striding out of his office.

He thumps his cane out of nervous habit as he rides the elevator down to the main floor. Part of him wants a serious confrontation with his boss, a real showdown. The more logical part of him doesn't see any reason to bother. Better to save the confrontation for when he really needs it, say, for when he wants to cut out a piece of a patient's kidney.

Finally the elevator arrives, and he crosses the lobby, pushing through the clinic and toward her office. She's busy working away, as if the previous night had never happened, as if she had never lost her temper with him at all.

After taking a quick breath to steady his nerves, he pushes through her office door. If she wants to behave as though everything is normal, then he will too.

"One of my fellows is taking some personal leave." He announces, dropping the first slip on her desk. "The girl."

"Noted and filed." She hardly looks up from what she's writing.

"And in other news…" He holds the other piece of paper practically under her nose. "I'm taking some vacation time."

"Oh." She does look up at that, her eyebrows shooting up as she examines the paper. "And where are you two going this time?"

"Vegas." He almost holds back on the rest of it. "Going to throw in a wedding while we're at it."

A slight smile curves her lips. "That's wonderful. Congratulations."

Her perfectly professional, polite response throws him off his game. "Yeah, you know, when I got out of here the other night…just seemed like the right thing to do." He pulls his phone out of his pocket and pulls up the picture message, handing it to her. "Check _that_ out."

She nods her approval, that professional mask never slipping as she hands him back the phone. "It's lovely. She's a very lucky woman."

Actually, he thinks it's the other way around, but he wouldn't dare tell her that. "Damn right she is." He glances at her left hand. The ring finger is bare. "Not wearing yours?"

"No." She purses her lips together, the first chink in her armor he's seen.

"Oh." He decides to let it go. He's done all he's set out to do today. "Guess we'll compare bling when I get back from Vegas."

"Guess so." She replies mildly, returning to her paperwork. "Have a good trip."

He nods firmly and turns to leave, whistling 'Viva Las Vegas' as he does so. For some reason the tune won't leave his head. Damn earworms, anyway.

# # #

When he returns to his office, the three fellows are back around the conference room table, obviously deep in debate. He pushes open the door to investigate.

"Got anything yet?"

The bald man explains their findings and his theory, while both the blond and the black have their own theories. Everything goes on the whiteboard, and they continue on, discussing and debating until their pagers go off again, sending all of them down to deal with the patient.

He pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to let her know that he won't be showing up at the bar tonight. She's quick with her response, adding one of those silly hearts that would normally make him roll his eyes. Coming from her, however, it's kind of cute, almost heartwarming. Not that he would ever admit such a thing.

The patient keeps him and his team hopping throughout the day and the night. They finally stabilize her, and he sends the team home for the night, save for the blond, who is staying behind to monitor her.

He decides to go ahead and go home, thinking that she will have already left the bar for the night. His thinking proves correct when he pulls in behind her SUV. The light is on in his living room, the sounds of the television wafting through the open windows.

She's dozing on the couch when he opens the door, and he makes every effort not to disturb her. It's all for nothing, however, as she stirs when he closes the door.

"You're early." She tells him sleepily.

"The patient's stable." He tells her as he leans down to kiss her forehead. "No reason for me to hang around."

"Good." She smiles and closes her eyes, lifting her head to kiss him lightly. "Get your vacation slip in?"

"Yeah." He nudges her feet, and she lifts them to allow him to sit down before resting them on his lap.

"And…?"

"And…" He shakes his head. "Nothing. I turned in the slip, showed her your ring, and that was it."

She gives him a skeptical look. "You mean to tell me that after all that fuss you made, you didn't do anything?"

He shrugs, a bit annoyed at the implication. "She didn't react. Besides, she wasn't wearing her ring. Me thinks something is rotten in the land of the She-Devil."

She shifts so that she's on her knees beside him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing a kiss to his scruffy cheek. "I'm kind of glad you didn't rub it in her face."

"Really?" He turns to face her.

"Really." She presses another kiss to his lips.

"Why?"

She laughs a little. "Haven't you heard? Living well is the best revenge."

He hadn't considered that. "Of course. How silly of me."

She curls against him, and he wraps an arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. The moment feels so good that he hates to wreck it, but something has been working at him all day. He just has to know the answer.

"Do you really want kids?"

She lifts her head, a puzzled expression on her face. "I don't know. Why do you ask?"

He shrugs, wondering if he misinterpreted her actions earlier. "You know, this morning, when we were talking about the house and stuff…"

"Oh. That." She sighs and shifts away from him, tucking one foot under her.

"Yeah. _That_."

A brief silence falls between them before she speaks again. "I never really thought that hard about it. When I was married before…" She shakes her head. "No way. Not a chance. I knew even then that I didn't want to bring children into that mess."

His heart starts to beat a little faster. "And now?"

"And now…" She shrugs slightly and smiles. "I won't discount the possibility." She tilts her head at him. "What about you?"

He isn't sure what to say. Finally he decides to just be straight with her, consequences be damned. "If you want kids, I think you're with the wrong guy." He tells her quietly. "I'm not exactly dad material."

"I think you're wrong." She responds, pressing a kiss to his temple and reaching out to squeeze his hand. "Anyway, we don't have to decide on that right this minute. Coming to bed?"

He nods, rising to follow her. They go through their usual nighttime routine before settling into bed, and he tucks in behind her with a soft sigh, throwing his arm over her waist to rest on her stomach.

He tries to imagine that same belly rounded, his child growing inside. The thought is almost more than he can wrap his mind around. Who in their right mind would _want_ a child with him? Any child of his would almost certainly be a hellraiser. No one should have to put up with that.

She covers his hand with hers and gives it a squeeze. "What's the matter, babe?"

"Nothing." He answers quietly. "Just thinking."

She sighs a little before speaking again. "Let it go, will you? Forget I even mentioned it."

He shifts closer, holding her a little tighter. "Can't. Sorry."

She swears softly, turning over to face him and placing a hand on his cheek. "I don't want this to come between us, okay? If we decide to have kids, great. If not, it's hardly the end of the world."

He smoothes a hand up and down her back. "You're not getting any younger, you know. You don't have all the time in the world to wait around until I decide." He sighs a little. "Maybe you should find someone a little more…suitable."

She groans and curls into his chest. "I already have, you idiot. Now quit obsessing and go to sleep."

He can't help letting out a low chuckle. Her usual blunt style has managed to calm him again, and he's oddly grateful for it. She's right, of course. None of this has to be decided tonight.

He wraps himself tighter around her, dropping a kiss on top of her head. "Three weeks."

She laughs softly. "Can't wait, babe."

Suddenly, neither can he.

# # #

**And now it's back to you, dear readers. Read and review.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry it took me so long, kids. The muse pulled a disappearing act on me, the brat! Maybe now that she's returned I can get her to work on some of my other projects. As usual, I don't own anything House-related. Special thanks to mmgage and Brigid45 for suggesting the bachelor party idea. :) If you haven't read their stuff, you should. It's awesome.**

# # #

The next couple of weeks seem to fly by as they both make arrangements for their respective absences. He can't resist casually throwing out the occasional countdown comment whenever he runs into his boss. Mostly he's having trouble containing his excitement, but he has to admit that making the occasional dig at his boss is kind of fun.

He sits at his desk, attempting to finish his dreaded charting before the end of the week. It will be one less thing to pile up while he's gone, if he can only get through it. As he works, he senses someone's presence. That presence is followed by a clearing throat, and he looks up to see the blond man and the black man staring down at him. The black man has his arms folded over his chest, a stern expression on his face, while the blond man has his hands shoved in his pockets, looking slightly nervous.

He looks from one to the other, craning his neck to see behind them. "Aren't you forgetting someone?"

The two men glance at each other, seeming to ignore his question. Finally the blond man speaks. "You remember the bachelor party you threw me last year?"

He nods. _Everyone_ remembers that one, even those that weren't there. It was legendary. Nothing could top it, he thinks. "Sure."

The blond glances at the black man, who rolls his eyes slightly in exasperation. He takes a deep breath and continues. "Well…we'd kind of like to return the favor."

He leans back in his chair and takes off his glasses. "Is that right?"

The blond nods. "It's tradition, you know. One last shout before you get hitched."

He's suspicious, but intrigued. "When and where?"

The other two men trade a secretive smirk before the black man speaks up. "Tonight. Eight o'clock." He hands over a piece of paper with an address written on it.

He takes the paper and glances at the address before nodding firmly and tucking it in his shirt pocket. "I'll be there. Now, don't you two have some clinic duty waiting for you?"

Both men nod and roll their eyes before turning and leaving, and he smirks a little before putting on his glasses and returning to his work.

So these two chuckleheads were going to throw him a bachelor party. He's equal parts touched and amused. In reality, it's the last thing he expected. It's the sort of thing friends do for each other, and he has never considered either man as a friend.

Which leads him to his next question. Why are these two doing this and not the man he considers his best friend? Come to think of it, his best friend didn't seem overly delighted when he had first sprung the news on him.

It's a mystery, and there are few things he likes more than a good mystery. The charting can wait, he decides as he pushes himself out of his chair and tucks his glasses in his shirt pocket.

Soon he is banging on the door of the oncologist's office, and a voice on the other side of the door grants him entrance. He pushes through and plops down on the couch, thumping his cane between his legs.

"You'll never believe what's happening." He throws out casually.

"Really?" His friend suddenly seems distracted by his own charting.

"Yep." He leans forward, studying his friend. "Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum are throwing me a bachelor party. Apparently Tweedle Dum has a deep seated need for revenge."

His friend blinks, just a little. Anyone else would have thought it was out of surprise, but he knows better. He's been busted.

He smirks at his friend's sudden discomfort. "So you had a hand in this, too."

His friend sighs and rolls his eyes. "What kind of friend would be if I didn't?"

He chooses not to answer that, instead pushing himself off his friend's couch and limping toward the door. "See you tonight, then."

"Wouldn't miss it."

He closes the door behind him, allowing himself a slight chuckle. Sometimes, his best friend genuinely manages to surprise him, and he's certainly managed it this time. How the hell he had managed to keep it a secret all this time is beyond him.

He settles back into his office with a cup of coffee, the charting still awaiting him. After a couple more hours, his eyes are nearly crossing from all the writing.

Finally he finishes the last one, flipping it closed and rising from his chair to pack up for the evening. He tucks his glasses into his shirt pocket and grabs the pile of charts along with his backpack and helmet and locks up his office for the night.

His mind turns over the possibilities that the night could bring. If his minions were involved, it could turn into a wild time indeed. Only his best friend might be able to tone it down a little, but he suspects he could get swept up in the spirit of the occasion as the night wears on.

The elevator doors open, and he strides through the lobby on the way to his boss's office, pushing it open and limping toward her desk.

He unceremoniously dumps the files on her desk. "All done. I'm going home now. Got a party to get ready for."

"Is that right?" She intones mildly, regarding him with an arched eyebrow. Her ring hand remains empty, he notes, but he chooses not to comment.

"That's right." He pulls his sunglasses out of the pocket of his leather jacket and slips them on his face, not bothering to hide the smirk that he knows is spreading across his face right now.

She doesn't rise to the bait, and he drags down his shades slightly to glance over them. "Aren't you the least bit curious about the _nature_ of this party?"

She huffs irritably and rolls her eyes, finally looking up at him as she straightens up the jumbled pile of charts. "Not particularly. Now, if you don't mind, I'm busy."

He leans over her desk, unable to resist one more jab. "If I'd known anyone was planning me a bachelor party, I would have made sure they hired you as a stripper."

She looks at him as if he's lost his mind, and he briefly wonders if he's gone too far. He quickly dismisses the thought as she shakes her head and returns to her work. "Have fun." She tells him in a resigned tone. "Make sure no one loses their pants this time."

"No promises." He pushes himself off the desk and limps away, tossing out over his shoulder, "Just one more week, and I'm someone else's problem for a while." He pauses just before opening her office door. "Actually, I'm coming back someone else's problem for life."

He hears her sigh behind him as he shrugs casually, leaving the office. There was a time that he would have done almost anything to have her. He's deeply grateful that is no longer the case. He understands now what true love is, having found it in his bartender. While he knows he was deeply infatuated with his boss, it's nowhere near the same as the deep rooted feelings he has for the woman he's marrying.

He can feel his mouth curve upward in a huge grin as he slides his shades back on and strides out of the hospital. The weather is nearly perfect today, and he's glad that he managed to skate out early. A long ride to unwind before the bachelor party is just what he needs. Actually, he doesn't need an excuse. Any reason is a good reason to go ride.

He makes it home about an hour before he's to arrive at his destination, enough time to clean up a little and grab a little of whatever's bubbling away in the slow cooker. She often does this for them, since their work schedules don't always coincide, and frankly, there are many times he's just too beat to meet her down at the bar.

It smells like home, and his mind wanders for a moment, trying to imagine the two of them in their own house, perhaps with a rugrat or two running around. She would be one hell of a mother, tough but tender, just as she is with him. He would hate to deny her that possible joy if that's what she wants.

He's still unsure what kind of father he would be. He knows what kind of father he _doesn't _want to be, but that doesn't exactly help him. It doesn't tell him how he would handle any children of his own.

He decided to push the thought out of his mind and dishes up a bowlful of the savory beef stew, leaning against the counter to take his first steaming bite.

"Were you born in a barn?" A familiar voice carries to him. "You could at least take it out to the couch."

He swallows his mouthful and leans down to give her a kiss. "What are you doing here? Figured you'd be down at the bar by now."

"I'm taking the night off." She answers, wrapping her arms around his waist and looking up at him. "Someone booked the bar for a private party."

He's instantly suspicious. "That's funny…I'm going to a party tonight."

The mirth that sparkles in her eyes tips him off. He sets down his bowl and wraps his arms around her waist, letting his hands drift to her backside. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"Maybe…" Her teasing tone confirms his suspicions.

"You knew." He smacks her rear lightly, evoking a squeak from her. "You knew, and you kept it from me." He leans down to press a kiss near her ear. "Anything else I should know?"

She tilts her head as he starts working down her neck. "Just that…I think you're going to like it."

"I'd better." He growls, squeezing her rear once more before releasing her.

She laughs heartily, squeezing his in return. "You'd better get going. Don't want to be late to your own party."

"Definitely not." He picks up his bowl and promptly polishes off the beef stew, turning to place the bowl in the sink.

He showers and changes, and soon he's ready to face whatever awaits him down at the bar. Maybe. He's suddenly loaded with doubts. It's going to suck if it's just him, his minions, and his best friend.

To hell with it, he decides. It's his night, and he's going to enjoy it, whoever shows up. He shoves his feet into shoes and limps out to the living room, where she's curled up on the couch with a beer and her own bowl of beef stew, engrossed in some chick flick. She looks up when he leans over the couch.

"Guess I'm off." He tells her, leaning down for a quick kiss.

"Have fun." She answers warmly, returning his kiss and looking up at him with an amused expression.

"Yeah, yeah." He grumbles.

"I mean it." She tells him firmly, shifting so that she's on her knees, leaning on the back of the couch, tracing a finger along the back of his hand. "This is your night. Make the most of it."

He turns his hand over to capture hers, pulling it to his mouth and pressing a kiss into it. "Might involve strippers and copious amounts of alcohol consumption off said strippers."

She laughs and rolls her eyes. "Just don't get arrested and everything will be just fine." She squeezes his hand. "I'm not worried. I trust you."

The simple words warm him more than they should. While he still doesn't understand her solid faith in him, he still loves her for it. It makes him feel more solid and secure. "One week." He tells her.

"One week." She smiles broadly in response. "Now go have fun."

He has every intention of doing so.

# # #

**Back to you, readers. Don't take as long to review as I did to update.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Been forever on this one, too. My humble apologies, as always. Don't own House, sure wish I did. None of this crazy Huddy crap would be happening if I owned him. :P**

# # #

He pulls up just outside the bar and shuts down the bike, pulling off the helmet and resting it on his leg. Someone has draped something to cover the windows, and it makes him wonder just what the hell his colleagues have come up with.

He takes a deep breath and swings his leg over the back of the bike, unclipping his cane and limping toward the door. A slow grin curves over his rough face as he pushes it open.

Somehow, they've managed to make the place look just like a strip club, right down to the low lighting, the poles, and the gyrating girls. He considers it fair payback for the bachelor party he threw for the blond not so long ago. He just hopes his party has a far better outcome.

"There's the man of the hour!" An extraordinarily cheerful and slightly inebriated voice snaps him out of his thoughts. Suddenly his best friend slings an arm around his shoulders and guides him toward the bar. "We almost had to start the damn thing without you."

"Sounds like you already did." He snarks in response, but there's no anger behind it.

His best friend snorts and smacks him on the shoulder, gesturing to the man behind the bar. "A drink for my friend here."

"Of course."

He turns to see his fiancee's brother holding down the bar, and the man greets him with a slight smile as he slides a bourbon his way. "So you were in on this, too?"

The man chuckles. "Who do you think suggested it?"

He's sure that the man's sister had a little something to do with this, but he decides to let it slide. Right now he's entranced by the whole scene unfolding before him.

A fair number of people have shown up, more than he would have thought. More continue to show up as the evening progresses, and the bar is soon nearly as full as it would be on a regular night. He continues to watch the women dance and move up and down the poles, but the appeal is lessened somewhat. He's much more entertained by watching his colleagues make utter fools of themselves with the strippers.

After his third bourbon, he spots the blond and the black making their way over to him. They sport conspiratorial expressions as they each take a side, guiding him off the barstool and to a chair in the middle of the room.

"We chose this one just for you." The blond tells him, and he feels oddly apprehensive. The young man gestures, and a tall, buxom redhead approaches, leaning over him so that her generous breasts are nearly in his face.

She starts dancing for him, every move carefully rehearsed, designed to seduce and entice. Although he finds her gyrations mildly arousing, the effect is not nearly as powerful as it used to be. He finds his mind drifting to the woman that now shares his life, imagining her in the stripper's place.

He finds that idea much more enticing, and he suddenly wonders just how soon he can get out of here and go home. A strange thought, considering that this is _his_ bachelor party, his _adios_ to singlehood, and he should be taking full advantage of it.

The girl gestures toward the bar, and one of the waitresses brings her a full shot glass. She settles it in her substantial cleavage and leans over him with a seductive smile.

He meets her eyes and takes the shot glass between his teeth, tilting back his head and swallowing the fiery liquid before setting it back between her breasts. The room explodes in cheers and wolf whistles, and he settles back in the chair with what he hopes is a satisfied smirk on his face.

He rises from the chair and wanders through the room, accepting the teasing comments and congratulatory statements from his colleagues. He can't help but wonder if many of these people are here out of curiosity, the disbelief that he, of all people, is getting married. After all, who would marry _him_?

His desire to go home is getting stronger, and he's nearly ready when he suddenly bumps into someone. The shorter man murmurs an apology before looking up, his eyes suddenly going wide.

It's that damn P.I., the one he paid to tail his best friend, the one he came close to befriending himself, the one that hooked up with his boss. He glares down at him.

"Who invited you?"

The P.I. shifts uncomfortably. "I…overheard your team talking about it. Didn't realize it was a VIP event."

_Bullshit_,he thinks. He knows the P.I. better than that. The guy was always a crappy liar. "Well, it is. Time for you to go."

The P.I. finally meets his eyes and holds out his hand. "Not before offering my best wishes for a happy marriage."

He takes the hand, fixing the P.I. with a steely gaze. "Same to you." He pauses before going in for the kill. "That is, if there's going to be one. She hasn't worn that ring of hers for a while."

The P.I. gives him a baffled look. "There'll be one. If she's not wearing it, I'm sure she has a good reason."

"I'm sure you're right." He answers calmly.

He can see the doubt cloud the other man's eyes, and he feels oddly satisfied, though he knows it's childish. It still feels good to come out on top for a change.

The other man mutters and walks away, and he watches him leave the bar and disappear into the night. It's not that he wants to cause trouble between the couple. The trouble is already there, simmering just under the surface. He has only brought it to light.

He only feels a little guilty for pushing the other man's buttons, but only a little. It serves him right after all the stunts the P.I. has pulled on him.

The sound of someone calling his name pulls him out of his thoughts, and he turns to see his best friend waving wildly at him. The man is clearly three sheets to the wind, verging on four, and he hopes that his friend manages to keep his pants on this time.

He crosses the room to the bar, where the crowd has gathered around, and his best friend claps him on the shoulder. "Time to make one of those speech things."

He groans a little internally. For all his boldness and bluster, he's uncomfortable speaking in front of all these people. He's made far more enemies than friends over the course of his career in Princeton, and he's not sure what to say to them.

Finally he clears his throat and thumps his cane on the floor. "Thanks, I guess." He looks up and surveys the assembled group. "I'm as surprised as all of you. Not for the party, but that I'm getting hitched at all. I mean, who would put up with me, right?"

A few titters and murmurs go through the crowd in agreement. As usual, he just said what was on everyone's mind. He merely nods and continues. "Yeah, I can't believe she said yes either. She's one hell of a woman. Has to be to tolerate me every day. Anyway…" He nods toward his team members. "You can thank these guys for setting this all up. They managed to keep it under wraps, which proves that they have, in fact, learned _something_ in all the years they've worked for me."

More laughter follows, and he nods before sinking onto a barstool, his barstool, as it happens. The group breaks up, wandering out to enjoy the dancers once again.

He observes more than he participates, but he's okay with that. It's not as if he's hiding out in a bathroom this time. Various colleagues come up to him over the course of the night, offering congratulations and joking comments as they pass through, and the bar finally starts to clear out.

Finally it's down to him, the blond, the black, the bald, his best friend, and the bartender. The bartender reaches down for something under the bar, coming back with a large bottle.

It's a single malt, expensive stuff, and he knows the bar doesn't just serve this to the regular patrons. No, this is special occasion stuff. The bartender catches his eye, an amused expression crossing his face.

"Been waiting for a good time to bust this out." The bartender tells him. "Now's as good a time as any."

He pulls out several shot glasses and fills them as the others murmur in agreement. Everyone takes a glass, and the bartender speaks.

"Wasn't sure about you at first. I knew I didn't like you, but I couldn't really say why." He pauses. "I'm glad I was wrong about you. Make sure it stays that way, otherwise I'll be using her baseball bat on you."

"Pretty sure she'll beat you to it." He answers, chuckling in amusement. "Anyone else have something to say?"

His team members murmur something, and the blond finally speaks. "I think I kind of speak for all of us when we say…congratulations, and it's about time. It took some time for us to figure out that you weren't screwing with us, but…yeah, congrats."

"And thank her for making you so much easier to work with." The bald adds, evoking a few chuckles in agreement.

They all turn to his best friend, who appears to be gathering his thoughts. After a deep breath, he lifts his shot glass, and the others follow suit.

"I've met this woman, and I have to say…they're one hell of a match. Better than I thought." His eyes seem to mist over a little as he continues. "I'm really happy for you. Kind of wish you weren't running away to Vegas to do this, but…I'm happy for you."

The small group seems to agree with the sentiment, and he finds himself oddly touched. Not that he would necessarily tell them that, but it's nice to know they care, at least a little.

He huffs uncomfortably as they all clink shot glasses and drink it down. It burns nicely, smooth and smoky, and he closes his eyes to savor it. If he could do a shot of that off a certain someone…

He sets the glass on the bar with a hard thump, nodding to the group. "It's been fun, but it's time for me to fly."

The group breaks up, and a cab is called to take them all home. He is the first dropped off, and he slowly lumbers out to the teasing and joking of his best friend and the other team members.

He pays them no attention as he makes his way into the building. The apartment is dark, and he figures she's gone to bed without him. He stumbles through the living room and into the kitchen, in search of his bottle of bourbon. Once he finds it, it's back through the living room and down the hallway to his bedroom.

She stirs when he opens the door, blinking when he turns on the light. "Hey, babe. Have a good time?"

"Not too bad." He's slurring his words slightly, he realizes. Perhaps this little fantasy his brain conjured up isn't such a great idea after all. "Lots of booze, lots of strippers, all the usual stuff."

"Good." She regards the bourbon bottle with curiosity. "Trying to keep the party going?"

"Maybe." He climbs into bed and gives her a sloppy kiss. "Did one of those body shot things and…it kind of gave me ideas."

"Is that right?" She laughs slightly as he presses a little kiss to her neck.

"Yep." He answers, reaching for the bottle. "Might require a little work on your part. C'mere."

She follows his lead, straddling his lap and looking down at him. A few tendrils of her blonde hair have worked their way loose from her ponytail, framing her smiling face.

This scenario is infinitely more appealing than the body shot off the stripper. For one thing, he can reach right out and touch her anywhere he wants. For another…she's far more real than that stripper, and it makes her more beautiful to him.

He uncaps the bottle and tips it slightly, wetting his fingers in the sweet-smelling liquid before stroking down the side of her throat. Wrapping one hand around the base of her neck, he brings her down to him, following the trail of bourbon with his tongue, and he hears her gasp slightly in surprise.

Further encouraged, he wets his fingers again, this time trailing his fingers along the exposed flesh that peeks over her tank top, again following with his tongue, stopping to press a kiss deep in her cleavage before moving on to the other side.

He sets the bottle aside for a moment to slide his hands around her waist and under the tank top, sliding it upward until she pulls it off the rest of the way, fully exposing her top half to him. The sight seals the deal for him. This is a far bigger turn-on than the fantastic plastic that was shaking it for him earlier. On impulse, he takes each breast in hand and flicks at each nipple with his tongue, evoking first a gasp, then a soft moan from her.

He rolls her off him and onto her back, shifting to his knees and grabbing the bourbon once more. A splash on his fingers gets spread on her lips, and she captures his hand to take his fingers into her mouth, rolling her tongue around them before pulling them out with a soft pop.

If he hadn't had so much to drink over the course of the evening, he would be rock hard right now, he's sure of that. He leans down to taste the bourbon on her lips, gently slipping his tongue into her mouth as his hand moves downward just under the waist of her sleep pants.

There's nothing underneath them, and he starts feeling around her warm center, spreading the folds of skin and rubbing slowly. She murmurs softly and arches toward his hand, tugging at her sleep pants until she kicks them off to points unknown.

He's nearly forgotten about the bottle in his hand, and he removes his fingers to wet them one more time before setting the bottle on the bedside table.

She lifts her head, instantly curious. He meets her with a smirk and strokes the hardened nub with his fingers, evoking a sigh of pleasure as she lays her head back down.

He shifts so that he's between her legs, spreading the folds of skin to expose the bourbon-coated flesh, caressing it with his tongue. The taste of the bourbon combined with her own natural scent would be almost enough to take him over the edge, if his anatomy would only cooperate.

It doesn't matter right now, he decides as she squirms and sighs under him. He slips first one, then two fingers inside her, probing deeply as he works over her with his tongue.

She gasps and arches her back when he finds her sweet spot deep inside, sloppily lapping at her with his tongue as her muscles contract around his fingers and her hand clutches at his hair.

He clumsily kisses his way back up to her, finishing with a hard kiss to her lips. "I've been thinking about that all damn night."

She laughs and strokes his face. "This was supposed to be your good bye to bachelorhood, and you were thinking about me the whole time?"

"Well… not the _whole_ time." He admits. "There were some pretty hot babes there." He wraps his arms around her and pulls her in close. "None of them were you, though."

"Aw, that's sweet." She teases him, curling into him and pressing against him. "Nothing for you tonight?"

"Couldn't get it up if I tried." He tells her almost cheerfully. "Guess you'll have to make it up to me in the morning."

She snorts and squeezes him, and he presses a kiss to the top of her head as she falls asleep. Maybe in the morning certain parts of him will be a little more awake, maybe not. Right now, it doesn't matter. The night has managed to turn out just as he hoped it would. Better, as a matter of fact. He'll take it.

# # #

**As usual, back to you, readers. Read and review.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Back again with all usual disclaimers. I don't own House or Wilson, blah, blah, blah.**

# # #

He awakens sometime the next day, squeezing his eyes shut against the bright light of what he assumes is still morning. His head is throbbing, and his mouth feels as if it's stuffed full of cotton balls.

It's his first hangover in years, and does it ever suck. He groans and shifts a little in an attempt to go back to sleep.

Just as he's starting to drift off, he feels the mattress move. He thinks he can smell fresh coffee, and it's almost enough for him to come out from under the pile of bedcovers.

He can hear her soft laugh as the bedcovers move, and she's suddenly next to him, soft and warm, one leg thrown over his, her foot snaking up his shin. "Wakey, wakey. Time to _rise_ and shine."

He can't help chuckling at that, even as his head pounds incessantly. "Not right now, dear. I have a headache."

"Poor baby." She laughs and slides over him so that she straddles him, leaning down to kiss him.

He pulls her in closer, smoothing his hands over her back and inhaling her scent. A bit of the sweet bourbon scent still lingers on her skin, and even with his blinding headache, he can feel himself perk up a bit.

"Okay, okay. You win." He gives her one last kiss and shifts to sit up a little so that he's leaning against the headboard, knees bent. She moves to settle in next to him, reaching to the bedside table to grab two mugs of coffee, handing one to him.

He inhales deeply and takes his first sip, and he can feel himself revive further. Once he finds his pain meds and takes a couple, he should be good to go, he thinks.

Finally he searches the bedside table for his prescription bottle, somewhat surprised to find he's still wearing last night's clothes, and he finds the bottle in his front pocket. He takes a couple and washes them down with the remains of the coffee, and within a short time he's relatively pain free on all fronts.

She's deep into her mystery novel, and he almost hates to disturb her. However, he's good and awake now, ready for her in a way he wasn't the night before.

He shifts closer and wraps an arm around her waist and places his head on her shoulder. She turns in response, an amused expression on her face. "Yes?"

He kisses her, spreading his fingers out along her ribcage as the kiss deepens and lingers until he finally breaks it off. "He has risen." He tells her with a smirk, waggling his eyebrows at her.

She lets out a hearty laugh at his lame joke, responding with a powerful kiss of her own, slipping her tongue into his mouth to tangle with his as they both move to lie down on the bed. Clothes are quickly shed, and he pulls her on top of him.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" She asks him lightly.

He's been having this internal debate for the last two weeks, and he finally makes a decision. "Not forgetting a thing."

She tilts her head in a questioning expression. "Are you sure?"

"No." He tells her bluntly. "But I don't think I'll ever be sure. Might as well just wing it and see what happens." He takes a deep breath. "As long as you don't mind your child being fathered by a crippled old drug addict with a list of issues a mile long."

"_Our_ child, should he or she come to pass…" She leans over him for a quick kiss. "…will be fathered by a brilliant, caring, funny, strong-hearted man."

"There's a lot I won't be able to do."

"But there's a lot you _will _be able to do." She points out. "This child will be very fortunate to have a dad like you."

He smiles a little, even as he can feel the emotion building inside him. "But the child will be even more fortunate to have you for a mom."

She smiles broadly, and he can see her eyes start to shine with unshed tears. He smacks her rear to lighten the mood. "So let's quit talking about making a baby and get started trying to make one."

She kisses him, and he smoothes his hands over her, brushing lightly against her nipples with his thumbs, and she lets out a short gasp.

One hand moves to her back as the other cups her breast, and he flicks at a nipple with his tongue, evoking further reaction as she arches toward him. He sucks and licks at one nipple, then the other before reaching down between them to guide himself inside her.

It's an altogether different sensation without the latex between them, and he finds himself coming a little closer to that edge than he wants. He stills himself for just a moment, simply enjoying the feeling of being so intimately connected to her. The idea that they might create a life within moments overwhelms him a little.

It's so much more than mere physical pleasure now, although it has been that way for some time now. This is a whole different level of intimacy, one that he can't ever recall achieving, and he wants to hold on to the moment, cherish it, savor it.

He presses a kiss to the space between her breasts, wrapping his arms around her and letting out a long sigh. He feels her stroke the top of his head and kiss it lightly.

"Are you okay?"

He lifts his head to look up at her, and he nods. For some reason the words aren't coming out.

Finally he starts moving inside her, and they develop a slow, steady rhythm, and she lets out a little moan every time he pauses. Eventually he reaches a point of no return, and he unloads inside her with a rough groan, pulling her in close and holding her tightly to him. He can feel her contract around him, and he stays inside her for as long as he can until they both relax with a shared sigh.

She climbs off him and lies down next to him, and they face each other, an arm slung over each others' waists, enjoying the quiet intimacy between them.

"So…what do you think the little squirt will look like?" He asks her.

"Hmm…" She looks thoughtful. "Big, beautiful blue eyes, no doubt." She strokes the top of his head. "What color was your hair before you went gray?"

He huffs a little at her unintentional reminder of his age. "Brown."

"So…a little blue-eyed brunet." She smiles broadly. "He'll be a heartbreaker."

"No, _she_ will be a blue-eyed blonde that's beautiful like her mom." He counters. "I'll have to beat the boys over the head with my cane."

She laughs hard at that and scoots closer. "This is fun, isn't it? I never thought I'd see the day."

"It is." He answers, sliding his hand to her stomach and caressing it lightly.

"What are you doing?" She places her hand over his.

"I'm trying to imagine you sporting the beached whale look."

She smacks him on the hand, and he lets out a low chuckle. Truthfully, now that the seed is planted, he's looking forward to seeing it come to fruition.

He moves to wrap his arm around her again, pulling her as close as he possibly can and kissing the top of her head. "I love you." He murmurs into her hair.

"Love you, too." Her voice is muffled against his chest.

He closes his eyes and feels himself start to drift off again. A couple hours more sleep curled up next to this woman suddenly sound like a fine idea. From the way she's softly snoring against him, she agrees.

# # #

He wakes up some time later to find her long gone. Just as well, he decides. After what has already been a jam packed weekend, he's good and ready for a little alone time.

After a long, hot shower and another dose of pain meds, he's finally ready to face what remains of the day. The smell of something bubbling away in the Crock Pot draws his attention, and he's surprised to find his stomach growling.

Not so surprised, really. After all, she gave him quite the workout earlier.

He chuckles to himself at the memory as he finds a bowl and dishes himself a large helping of beef stew before limping into the living room and settling in on the couch. A brief survey of his cable line up reveals nothing interesting, and he's already watched everything on his TiVo.

He turns his attention to the laptop on the coffee table, opening it and clicking on his Internet browser. When he gets to his e-mail, he clicks on the confirmation for their Vegas package.

A smile tugs at his lips, and he can feel the goosebumps form on his arms as he looks over everything one last time. Yes, it's real, and it's happening. It's taken him over fifty years to get here, but it's finally happening.

He's getting married. Hitched, paired off, taking the plunge. And what a plunge it is. It's a very different life that he had envisioned after he got out of the institution and returned to real life. Never in a million years did he imagine that he would fall for the one woman who had been his constant through not only the couple of months prior to his institutionalization, but during the difficult times after, when readjusting to his real life felt nearly impossible.

Everyone had expectations for him when he returned. She was the only one who was just glad to see him again. No wonder he had felt so drawn to her. The late night conversations over burgers and onion rings hadn't hurt, either.

He decides to Google wedding chapels in Vegas, and he's almost surprised and overwhelmed by the sheer number of links that come up on Google.

He closes the laptop with a huff. The wedding chapel decision can wait until they get there. She should choose it, anyway. He wouldn't want to choose something she doesn't like.

A knock at his door pulls him out of his thoughts, and he bellows toward it. "It's open!"

The door opens, revealing his best friend. He smirks a little when he sees the other man enter. "Looking kind of rough, Boy Wonder."

The oncologist rolls his eyes. "It was one hell of a night. But…I did manage to keep my pants on this time."

"Good job." He snorts and rolls his eyes. "There's food if you want it."

His friend's eyes light up as he pads to the kitchen, soon returning with a steaming bowl of the beef stew. "So…one week before you sign your life away, huh?"

He rolls his eyes. "I plan on making this a lifetime thing. Not like you."

"Funny." His friend rolls his eyes in return. "So why Vegas?"

He throws him a sharp look. "What? Jealous that I didn't ask you to be my best man?"

His friend shrugs, and he huffs in response. "It's nothing personal. We just kind of decided to go ahead and just do it."

The oncologist's eyes crinkle in amusement. "What'd you do, knock her up?"

He freezes at the joking comment, and his friend gives him a baffled look. "No…is she…?"

"Don't know yet." He answers tersely. "Only rode bareback for the first time this morning."

"Oh." His friend blinks in surprise, and he knows he's revealed more than he intended.

He huffs irritably and pushes himself off the couch, making his way to the piano. Soon he's lost in his music, almost forgetting his friend's presence.

His friend reappears during a break between songs, leaning slightly on the piano. He glares at him, and he immediately steps away. Finally he dares to speak. "Are you two really trying to have kids?"

He can hear all the implications in that question. He's too damn old now. He'll be ancient by the time any child of his graduates from high school, if he's even still alive by then.

He shrugs and plays a couple of random chords. "Maybe. She'd be one hell of a mom."

"But you think you'd be a crappy dad." His best friend answers, remarkably astute.

He nods furiously, hunching over the piano keys. He doesn't notice his friend moving in closer until his hand clasps his shoulder, squeezing lightly. "You won't be, you know."

"And how do you know that?" He growls.

His friend shrugs, releasing his shoulder and shoving his hands in his pockets. "Call it a feeling."

He lets out a 'hmph' sound and continues playing. The fear that potential fatherhood brings won't leave him, despite his friend's assurances.

"Don't 'hmph' me." His friend chides. "You've always had a special connection with kids. It's about time you tried to have one of your own."

"Technically she'd be the one having it, not me."

"You know what I mean." The oncologist sighs.

"Yeah." He pauses at the end of his song, losing himself in his thoughts once again.

He finally breaks the long silence. "I never thought this would happen to me." He speaks softly. "Marriage…kids…none of it was even on my radar."

"It's about time." His friend answers. "And I'm happy for you…even if I don't get to witness this momentous occasion."

"I'll make sure to get pictures." He snarks.

His friend laughs and gestures with his bowl. "I'm going after more."

"Don't eat it all." He calls after him. "Otherwise you'll find yourself getting a baseball bat to the skull."

"There's enough here to feed you and a small army." His friend calls back. "I don't think I have to worry about your fiancée's violent tendencies."

_His fiancée_. The words still make him smile. The thought of introducing her as his _wife_ make him smile even more.

He pushes himself from the piano bench, grabs his bowl, and limps back into the kitchen, where the oncologist is helping himself to a beer. "You want one?" He gestures.

"Sure." His hangover has long since abated, and a beer to go with his beef stew sounds just fine with him.

They make their way to the living room, surfing through his TiVo, arguing over silly, random things as they eat and drink. It's been forever since they've done this, and it feels like old times.

A few hours later, his friend rises to leave. "I should go. Someone's expecting me."

"Right. Wouldn't want to keep the soulless harpy waiting." He answers, only half-joking.

His friend throws him a dark look before opening the door. "See you at work."

"I'll be there."

The oncologist closes the door behind him, and he's once again alone with his thoughts. He's nowhere near tired despite the late hour, and he finds himself somewhat at loose ends.

His impending marriage and the possibility of kids get him thinking, and he returns to his laptop, flipping it open and opening his Internet browser.

This time he starts searching real estate websites. He's soon so absorbed in the task that he doesn't hear her come in.

"Hey." She plops down on the couch next to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "What are you doing?"

"Checking out houses." He answers.

"Find anything?" She moves closer, and he can smell the beef stew wafting from her bowl.

"Not really." He tells her. "I'm just sort of playing around."

She sets down her bowl and slides the laptop toward her, clicking on search criteria. "How's that look?"

He nods in approval, and she clicks on the 'Go' button. Pages of houses pop up, and he suddenly feels overwhelmed as she starts scrolling through them.

"Here's one." She clicks on the picture, and he looks over her shoulder as more pictures pop up. "This one's nice."

"It's got possibilities." He agrees.

"There's an open house tomorrow." She tells him. "Want to check it out?"

"Sure." He slides an arm around her and rests his chin on her shoulder. It's so crazy, the changes that have suddenly come into their lives. In the space of a month, they've gone from hanging at each other's apartments to making a much more permanent commitment. It's more than a little overwhelming.

She turns slightly and glances at him. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." He tells her firmly. "I'm this close to having a wife, a family, and a house. All things I thought would never happen to me."

She laughs softly. "Kind of scary, isn't it? It's all happening so fast."

"Do you want to slow it down?" He's suddenly concerned. "I mean, it's kind of late for the one thing, but for the rest of it…"

"I don't want to slow it down." She turns and kisses him, taking his face in her hands.

"Good." He murmurs, relief washing over him. "Because I don't, either."

She kisses him again, the laptop and her dinner briefly forgotten as she pushes him down to lie down on the couch. He slides his hands around her waist and pulls her closer, their kisses deepening and lingering, his desire for her growing again.

He breaks it off, moving to tuck her hair behind her ear. "Thank you."

She tilts her head curiously. "For what?"

"For taking me on." He answers. "I know I haven't exactly been the easiest guy to get along with. So…you know, thanks."

She smiles and kisses him again. "My pleasure…_mostly_."

He can't help but laugh at her teasing tone. He figures if she can handle him, motherhood should be no problem.

He sighs a little and pulls her down to rest against his chest, simply enjoying the closeness between them. Most of his doubts evaporate in that moment, and he decides he could definitely do this for the rest of his life. He just hopes that his life will be a long one.

# # #

**You know what happens next. Read and review.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Finally managed to pull together an update for this one. As usual, I don't own anything House-related. Don't own Phantom of the Paradise, either, just a copy of the DVD and the soundtrack on my IPod.**

# # #

They return from the open houses they visited, no closer to finding a home than they had been when they had started out that day.

"Well, that was a complete bust." He grumbles as he flops down on her couch, rubbing his aching thigh.

"So we'll look around when we get back from Vegas." She answers casually, bringing a beer for each of them from the refrigerator and arranging herself next to him. "It's not the end of the world."

He accepts the beer and wraps an arm around her shoulders with a sigh, lightly caressing her. "Does it have to be a house?"

She looks thoughtful. "No, I suppose it doesn't. We could do just as well with another apartment or a condo."

"I like that idea." He answers. "One story dwellings are vastly underrated, you know."

Her eyes go a little wide before a guilty expression crosses her features. "I didn't even think about that. My God, your leg must be killing you."

"And you're killing me with sympathy." He snaps, fixing her with a sharp glare. "I'm just saying it's not something I'd want to live in for the rest of my damn life."

"I'll add it to the search criteria when we start looking again." She tells him. "And I'll damn well be sympathetic if I want to. I wasn't looking out for you, and I should have been."

"I can look out for myself just fine." He argues. "Been doing it for a long time."

"But you don't _have_ to." She points out. "That's the beauty of being part of a couple. Sometimes the other person can look out for you, too."

He rolls his eyes, even as he admits to himself that she has a point. "Where's that Thai take-out menu? All that stomping around makes a guy hungry."

She gracefully rises from the couch and soon returns with the menu and the phone. The order is placed, and she picks up the remote to start channel surfing.

He spots an old movie, one he hasn't seen in ages. "Hey, go back."

She throws him a puzzled look, but goes back a channel or two until she finds what he's looking for. It's the movie he thought it was, an old cult classic, cheesy as hell, but an amazing soundtrack.

"What is this?" She laughs slightly and curls closer to him.

"'Phantom of the Paradise'." He affects an appalled expression. "Don't tell me you've never seen it."

"Sorry." She replies. "A bit before my time."

He growls and pinches her shoulder, evoking a squeal from her. "Just hush up and watch, woman."

She settles into him, and he finds himself singing along with the music. He has fond memories of hunching over the piano, picking out the notes after listening to the record endless times. The music touched something inside him even then, even as a young teenager. He finds it more poignant now.

The sounds of a lone piano reach his ears, the lyrics haunting him. _And so I lived my role…swore I'd sell my soul for one love…who would stand by me…give me back the gift of laughter…_

He pulls her closer, and he presses a kiss to the top of her head. Fortunately, no soul-selling has been involved with this woman. She's just here, solidly beside him, yes, even looking out for him despite his protests that he needs no such thing.

A tap on the door signals the arrival of their food, and they're soon settled back in on the couch, stealing each other's food and watching the movie.

After dinner, they stretch out on the couch, her head on his chest, his arms wrapped around her. She lets out a contented sigh.

"You alright?" He strokes her soft blonde hair.

"Mm-hm." She answers. "Tired."

"We could always go to bed." He offers.

She laughs in response. "And I know damn well I won't get any sleep there."

"Maybe not at first…" He teases. "But you'll sleep pretty damn well afterward."

"Brag, brag, brag."

"But I can back it up." He counters, his hand moving down her back, coming to rest on her rear.

"True." She lifts her head and gives him a quick kiss. "So come on, Studly Dudley. Prove it."

He can feel the smile creep across his face as she climbs off him and offers a hand up. He gratefully takes it, not wanting to fully admit just how much he's hurting tonight.

No sooner is he in bed than he feels her climb in, her hands running up and down his leg. He winces slightly, even as the muscles start to loosen up.

"Too much?" She gives him a concerned look.

"Just a little." He answers, and she eases up a little. He lets out a short sigh of contentment. "That's better."

After a few minutes, his leg is feeling somewhat better. The combination of light massage and his meds have had their desired effect, and all he wants now is her.

He holds out a hand to her, and she moves so that she straddles him, leaning down for a kiss.

She starts to pull away, but he pulls her in by the nape of her neck, slipping his tongue in to tangle tenderly with hers, his other hand resting on the small of her back. A small sound from her is the only response, and she leans more fully over him, slipping her hands under his shoulders, pressing against him.

He and his flesh respond almost immediately, and he moves his hands under her shirt, pushing it up until she removes it and tosses it aside. She smoothes her hands over his bare chest, moving down his stomach and curving them around his waist.

She shifts slightly until she's between his legs, a slight smile crossing her face. He's a little baffled, but pleased, at the turn of events.

"Thought I was supposed to prove my studliness." He teases her.

"You'll get your chance." She answers as she tugs his boxers off his body and takes him in her hand, stroking lightly before dipping down to take him into her mouth.

He lets out a groan at the move, reveling in the feel of her tongue sweeping over him, the feel of her mouth wrapped around him. Soon he's fully hard, and he strokes the top of her head to get her attention.

"Get up here." He growls, and she quickly complies. Soon he peels off her sleep shorts, letting his hands wander over the smooth skin beneath before guiding her to straddle him.

He smoothly enters her, and she arches her neck with a soft sigh. She starts to move over him, but he holds her still. He wants to set the pace tonight, wants to watch her reactions as he moves inside her.

Her breath seems to catch in her throat as he varies the pace, his hands smoothing over her, cupping her breasts and playing with her nipples. She's getting close, her breathing growing more shallow as he reaches between her legs to play with her, and he can feel himself getting closer as well. Just watching her reactions is almost enough to bring him to the edge.

Suddenly she gasps, and he feels her muscles contract around him as she goes over. A few quick strokes and he joins her, a rough groan escaping him as he pulls her to him, caressing her hair as they both recover.

"So…" He finally ventures. "Did I sufficiently prove myself?"

She lets out a hearty laugh, pressing a kiss to the middle of his chest. "_Yes_. Don't you usually?"

"I like to think that I do." He answers casually. "But your opinion may vary."

"Silly man." She tells him affectionately as she slides off to find the covers, settling in beside him.

"Yes, but I'm _your_ silly man."

"Of course you are." She gives him a quick kiss. "Always."

_Always_. He likes the sound of that, even if the notion scares him a little. "How much longer now?"

"Just a few days."

He falls silent then, letting the idea sink in. Before long, they'll be in Vegas, and not long after, they will return as husband and wife. It's still a crazy idea to him. "You know, we could always keep our living arrangements just the way they are. Plenty of married couples do that."

She lifts her head, giving him a look that clearly tells him he's crazy. "Name one."

He huffs irritably. "Okay, none come to mind right this minute. But I'm sure they exist."

She sighs and shakes her head, returning to lay on his shoulder. "And if we do have a kid, where would he or she live?"

"With you, of course." He answers cavalierly. "I'll come visit."

She smacks him soundly in the middle of his chest. "That is it. The minute we come back from Vegas, we're going apartment hunting."

He winces at the force of the blow. "Okay, okay. You win. I'd rather be with you and the rugrat anyway. _If_ we have one."

"And if we don't, we'll still have each other." She reminds him. "It's not the end of the world if we don't produce offspring."

"We'll have one hell of a good time trying." He cracks.

She laughs at that, curling closer to him. "Yes. Yes we will. Now go to sleep."

That should be no problem, at least for a little while. He closes his eyes and pulls her in close, listening to her breathing even out as she falls asleep. Mission accomplished for both of them, he figures.

# # #

The next few days pass quickly, and soon he's tying up loose ends in preparation for his week off. He glances up to see the blond enter from the conference room.

"Just need you to sign off on this file." He tells him. "Also wanted to give you this. It's from all of us."

He's pleasantly surprised. First the bachelor party, now this. He opens the envelope to find a vaguely amusing card, signed by not just the current members of his team, but his best friend, his boss, even the nurses in the clinic. "How the hell did you get all these people to sign this?"

The blond shrugs. "Must be my good looks and charm." He holds out his hand. "God bless."

He narrows his eyes, but returns the handshake. "God's got nothing to do with this one. But…thanks." He signs off on the file and sticks it under his arm before grabbing his backpack and his cane. "Don't burn down the place while I'm gone. I might be having a kid. Kind of need the job."

He knows he's left the blond gaping behind him, and he can't help chuckling a little. Serves him right for that 'God bless' crack.

He makes his way to the elevator, stepping on as soon as the doors open. His best friend quickly steps in behind him, giving him a quick smile. "Taking off?"

"Yep." He thumps his cane against the floor. "This time next week, I'll have a little metaphorical handcuff right there." He gestures at his ring finger.

His best friend laughs. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, she'll have one just like it."

"True."

Both men fall silent for the remainder of the ride. Suddenly, just before the elevator stops, his friend grabs him in an impulsive hug.

"What the hell are you doing?" He's been caught completely off guard.

"I'm happy for you." His friend tells him. "Really happy for you. It's about time."

"Can you be happy for me in…you know, a non-girly way?" He's grateful for his friend's approval, but that whole hugging thing has never been their style.

"Sorry." His friend quickly releases him, looking distinctly awkward s the doors open.

She's in the lobby waiting, and he points his cane at her. "Here's your chance to get your hug on. Go hug her. She loves that crap."

His friend smiles at him, crossing the lobby to do just that, and they laugh and chat amicably before exiting through the double doors.

She's still laughing as he approaches. "He's something else, you know that?"

"You're telling me." He grumbles. "I almost yelled 'rape' in the elevator. He was all over me."

She gives him a meaningful look, even as she's obviously amused, and he feels slightly chastised.

Suddenly she nods her head toward the clinic. "Isn't that your boss?"

He looks where she's pointing. Sure enough, she's coming their way. "That would be her. Quick, full lip lock."

He wraps his arms around her and presses his lips to hers before she can squeak out a protest, keeping it going until he hears the sound of a throat clearing behind him.

"Oh, hello." He says cheerfully. "Didn't know you were back there."

His boss rolls her eyes, folding her arms over her chest with a slightly amused expression. "I just wanted to express my congratulations." She turns to his fiancée. "And best of luck to you. He's a lot to handle."

"And I'm happy to do it." She answers, squeezing him around his waist. "We have an understanding."

"That's good." His boss smiles warmly, though it doesn't quite seem to reach her eyes. Her ring finger remains empty. He's not sure if that's a good sign or not.

"Come on, babe." His fiancée encourages him. "Don't want to miss our flight." She nods politely at his boss. "It was nice to see you again."

"Same here." His boss answers. "Have fun. _Try_ to keep him out of trouble."

"No promises." They answer in tandem, and he realizes with horror that they've had one of those 'couples' moments.

He shakes off the slightly creepy feeling and leaves with his fiancée, climbing into the SUV for the trip to the airport.

Everything takes forever, but finally they are on the plane, bound for Vegas. He reaches across to take her left hand as they take off, playing with the solitaire that sparkles even in this light.

He can't stop the smile that plays across his lips, suddenly eager to see a wedding band in addition to that diamond ring. They'll look good together, he thinks. His won't look too bad on him, either.

She looks over at him with a warm smile. "Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine." He tells her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Everything's just fine."

And for once, it is.

# # #

**Back to you, dear readers. Read and review.**


	9. Chapter 9

**And we've come to the end of another tale. Thank you for all you reviews, and thank you to all of you who have favorited and alerted this one. I appreciate all of them. As usual, I don't own House or Wilson.**

# # #

After a long flight and what seems like an endless journey through security, they finally arrive at their hotel. He glances over at her as they enter, secretly pleased at her reaction.

"It's beautiful." She whispers as they approach the sign in desk.

He almost tells her about the room itself, but decides to let her see for herself. They step onto the elevator that carries them to their floor, and he soon finds their room, inserting the keycard.

Her eyes go wide when he opens the door, taking in the luxurious furnishings and rich colors. Even he's a little impressed. The website hardly does the room justice.

She squeezes him around his waist, nearly crushing his ribs. He coughs slightly and places an arm around her shoulders.

"So you like it?" He teases.

"Hell, yes!" She squeezes him one more time before releasing him and making a beeline to the bed, climbing onto it and lying across it. "Come lie down with me."

He's tired and sore from the long flight, and the idea of just lying down anywhere sounds like a fine idea to him. The fact that it's in a luxury suite in Vegas with this woman is just a bonus.

He limps over to the bed and eases himself down, toeing off his shoes and settling in next to her. She immediately rolls toward him and slides an arm over his waist, sighing contentedly.

"I think I could die happy now." She tells him.

"Not yet." He answers, shifting to face her and smoothing a hand along her hip. "Not until I put that other ring on your finger. And maybe not even after that."

She props herself up on an elbow, a teasing smile creeping across her face. "Aw, are you getting sentimental on me?"

"Maybe." He replies with a chuckle. "Don't bother telling on me. No one would believe you anyway."

"I kind of like it." She tells him. "It suits you."

He huffs and rolls his eyes, much to her apparent amusement. Never in a million years did he think he would find this again, not just love, but total acceptance of all parts of his personality.

He's not an easy man to love, he's well aware of that. He's stubborn, temperamental, not one to reveal much of what's going on in his mind. She's managed to draw him out, push back when he pushes too hard, stand toe to toe with him in his less than charming moments.

Thanks in part to her, those moments are coming fewer and farther between. They've built a level of trust that he's never had with anyone, and it allows him greater freedom to just be himself.

She shifts closer to him, curling into his chest, and he instinctively wraps his arm tighter around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He smiles a little to himself as he hears her breathing even out, a slight snore escaping her.

He closes his own eyes, feeling himself drift away next to her. This trip is already off to a great start.

# # #

He awakens some time later to the feel of something stirring next to him. He opens his eyes to find her looking down at him with an impish smile on her face.

"What?" He's immediately suspicious.

"Nothing." Her tone is teasing. "Just seeing if you're awake."

"I am now." He shifts so that he's sitting up, warily watching her. She appears to be a bundle of barely contained energy, and he can only imagine why.

"Good." She chirps. "I was doing a little research while you were sleeping. Did you know we can do gown and tux rental as part of a wedding package? We can even do a drive-thru wedding. _And_ the wedding license bureau is open almost all the time."

He's pleasantly surprised at her enthusiasm. "So what are you trying to say?"

She laughs and rolls her eyes, leaning forward to give him a firm kiss. "I'm _saying_ that we can get hitched as soon as you're ready."

"I'm guessing you want to do this soon." He teases her.

"_Yes_." She scoots off the bed. "Come on. I've got the whole thing planned out."

A bit of fear clutches at him. The idea that he's getting dragged along for the ride doesn't exactly sit well with him. "Don't I get a say in this?" He grumbles.

She pauses, a slightly guilty expression crossing her face. "Sorry. Guess I kind of got caught up in the excitement."

He can't help but smile as he eases himself off the bed and limps toward her, taking her into his arms and kissing the top of her head. "It _is _kind of exciting."

"Yeah, but…we don't have to make all the plans right this minute." She concedes.

"I'm cool with however you want to do this. Really." He tells her. "As long as I get food first."

She lets out a short laugh, pushing herself up on tiptoe to give him a kiss. "You have a deal, sir."

They enter one of the restaurants at the hotel, an elegant bistro, and she requests an outside table. Once seated, they order drinks and fall into their usual easy casual chat as they observe the people walking by.

"So I've given it a little more thought." She tells him as they share the warm Brie appetizer. "I don't want to rent a gown."

"Fine by me." He answers, reaching over to wipe a bit of Brie that didn't quite make it into her mouth. "What were you thinking instead?"

Her eyes sparkle with mirth. "I think I'll surprise you. The only thing I'll say is that it won't be fancy."

"I like that." He replies with a smile. "Were you serious about the drive-thru thing?"

"Absolutely!" Her eyes light up. "We could get married right there in the convertible."

"Even better."

Their meals arrive not long after, and they chat about more wedding details, stealing bites off each other's plates as they linger over the meal.

"Would you care for dessert?" The waiter asks them both.

They order a chocolate mousse and a crème brulee, savoring them both, mock fighting each other for the last bites.

Finally the check arrives, and he tucks his credit card in the holder, awaiting their waiter's return. Transaction complete, they leave the bistro hand in hand, taking some time to wander around the hotel.

They soon find their way to one of the shopping areas, and he lets out a short huff. "You tricked me, woman."

"Not at all." She laughs. "I'm just looking, anyway."

He rolls his eyes. "I think it's time for me to find a casino. You know, the _real_ reason people come to Vegas."

"Fine." She teases him. "All this stuff is way out of my price range, anyway. I'll catch a cab and go elsewhere."

"Call me when you're done." He tells her. "We'll find something to do."

They separate, and he finds his way to the casino. The place is dazzling, slot machines chiming, lights flashing everywhere. It's a epileptic's nightmare, but it's close to his idea of heaven.

Slots, however, aren't his thing. He goes off in search of table games, taking a seat at one of the lower stakes poker tables.

He finds the people at the table more interesting than the game itself. More than a few of them resemble wannabe professionals, though their play is anything but. It's amusing, and he takes great pleasure in taking their money.

His mind starts wandering a couple of hours in, wondering just what kind of dress she has in mind. Almost anything would look good on her, he thinks. Ultimately, he's not that concerned with what she looks like. As long as they leave this place with rings on their fingers and a valid marriage certificate, things will be good in his book.

As if on cue, his phone starting singing in his pocket. He leaves the table to answer, attempting to find a quiet spot in this noisy casino.

It turns out there's no need. She's sent him a text. _All done shopping. Meet me back in our room. I have something to show you._

A slight smile curves over his lips at the idea. Whatever it is, it's bound to be good.

He makes it back up to their room, sliding in his keycard and entering the suite. It's quiet, and at first he's suspicious. "Hello?"

"Just a minute!" She calls out from the bathroom. "Have a seat on the couch!"

He eases himself onto a couch, curious at what she could possibly be doing in there. Soon she emerges in a thick white robe, padding over to where he's seated.

"While I was out finding my dress…I found a little something for you, too." She leans over him to give him a quick kiss.

"Is that right?" He's even more interested, and he can feel the stirring in his jeans as the possibilities race through his head. "Well, let's see it."

She unties the robe, letting it slowly fall off her shoulders and hit the floor. He's speechless, taking in the white corset that hugs her body, the garters hanging below, her panties a mere slip of fabric covering the most important parts.

He holds a hand out to her, and she steps closer, taking his hand as he pulls her to him. His other hand smoothes over the fabric, his fingers spreading out over her lower back while his eyes travel appreciatively over her body.

"Me likey." He growls, pulling her down to straddle him, placing kisses along the flesh that spills out over the cups.

"Thought you would." She murmurs in response. "I'm thinking of wearing this under the dress."

"You do that and we'll never make it to the chapel." He answers, letting his hands travel over her body, giving her breasts a light squeeze.

She responds with a laugh, followed by a little sigh, draping her arms over his shoulders as his hands continue their roaming journey.

"How do I get you out of this thing?" He grumbles.

She reaches behind her to loosen the laces, and he tugs it down enough to take a breast in each hand, lightly running his tongue over each nipple before taking it in his mouth and sucking.

She sighs in response, caressing the back of his head. While continuing to play with one breast, he slides his other hand downward, reaching into her panties to start caressing the flesh there, playing around her opening with one finger. A soft gasp escapes her, and she shifts slightly to accommodate him.

He slides that finger deep inside her, thrilling to the soft moan the movement produces, continuing to stroke while playing with her ever hardening flesh with his thumb. She's so close to the edge, wrapping her arms around his neck, her breath rough in his ear.

A slight movement of his finger inside her produce the reaction he's looking for, and she tenses around him, letting out a low moan as she goes over, burying her face in his neck. Soon she lifts her head and gives him a long, lingering kiss before pushing herself off him.

He leans back, spreading his arms out along the back of the couch to watch her as she slowly slips out of the corset and panties before returning to him. She quickly slides his t-shirt up and off his body before moving to unfasten his jeans. He moves just enough to allow her to remove both the jeans and his boxers before she straddles him again, taking his hardening flesh in her hand.

The lingerie is a nice touch, certainly, but this is how he likes her best, warm and naked, pressed skin to skin against him. He takes hold of her hips and pulls her forward, and she wastes no time guiding him inside her.

He adjusts himself just enough to achieve maximum stroke, and he slowly starts stroking inside her, bringing her down to him for a long, seemingly neverending kiss as they rock together.

It doesn't take long for the sweet friction to take him to the edge and over, and he gives one final thrust before unloading, pulling her tightly to him until he finally relaxes with a rough groan.

He gives her a quick kiss, taking her face in his hands and stroking her cheekbones with his thumbs. She regards him with a questioning expression.

"What's up?"

"Nothing now." He answers with a trademark deflection.

She rolls her eyes, even as an amused expression crosses her face. "Think I'll go to bed. It's been one hell of a day."

"Don't bother getting dressed." He teases. "I'm just going to ravish you again anyway."

"Then the same goes for you." She responds with a smile. "No sense having anything in the way."

He likes the way she thinks, and he toes out of his shoes before dropping his jeans and boxers to the floor before rising to join her in the bed.

He wraps himself around her, spreading his fingers over her stomach and pressing a kiss into her neck. "So, when does the marriage license bureau open?

"Eight in the morning." She answers. "Why?"

"Because…the sooner we can get that license, the sooner we can get hitched, and the sooner we can start the honeymoon."

She lets out a short laugh and squeezes his hand. "Seems like we've already gotten a head start on that."

"That was just the rehearsal." He tells her.

"Hell of a rehearsal, babe." She teases.

"All the more reason to get the wedding done." He explains patiently. "So what do you say?"

She turns over so that she faces him, planting a kiss on his lips. "I say that you'd better get some sleep. We've got an early day tomorrow."

He laughs and kisses her hard in response, rolling her over to her back. First things first, he decides, making good on his promise to ravish her further. Sleep can wait a while.

# # #

The next day they hit the ground running, starting with breakfast at one of the cafés inside the hotel before climbing into the convertible to get their marriage license.

The place is a flurry of activity, and he can't help but get caught up in the excitement that surrounds him. Ordinarily the idea of being in the same room with so many happy couples would have given him a rash, at the very least. Now he finds himself part of one of those couples, and it isn't so bad.

After filling out the form and answering a few questions, they leave, license in hand, and head off in search of a jewelry store for rings.

They find almost exactly what they're looking for, and he's grateful for her foresight and her meticulous research. This would have been nearly impossible otherwise.

The clerk takes out the ring he points toward, a simple white gold band. It's a good fit, and he studies it on his finger, moving it around so that it catches the light.

He's not a jewelry man, never has been, but this is one piece of jewelry he'll wear for life. A wave of emotion rises in him at the significance of this simple gold band, the symbol of a lifelong bond to another person.

The feel of her hand grasping his snaps him out of his thoughts, and he turns his head to see her eyes shining with unshed tears, a slight smile gracing her face.

"It looks good on you, babe." She tells him, her voice slightly choked with emotion.

He nods, not quite trusting himself enough to speak. Finally he takes a deep breath and removes the ring. "We'll take it." He tells the clerk. "And a matching one for the lady."

The clerk finds one in her size, and she removes the solitaire long enough to slip on the band, following it with her engagement ring.

He nearly does lose it then, reaching across to feel both rings on her finger. She regards him with a questioning look, and he quickly clears his throat and nods. "I like it. That's all."

Her smile grows wider as she takes both bands off, handing the wedding band back to the clerk. "Guess we'll take both."

The clerk nods and smiles, clearly used to the emotional display. He completes the transaction, handing the bag containing both rings to them. "Have a good day, a good wedding, and a happy marriage."

"Thank you." They chorus, and he winces at the idea of another one of 'those' moments happening again. She merely laughs and squeezes his hand, and they climb into the car for the ride back to the hotel.

He lets out a long sigh as he flops across the bed, and she isn't far behind him. It's barely noon, and he's already exhausted.

"So we're done now, right?" He asks her, absentmindedly stroking her hair.

"Yep." She replies, snuggling closer to him. "All that's left is the marrying part, and we can do that whenever you're ready."

He closes his eyes briefly, but his excitement and nerves win out over his desire to rest. "How about now?"

She lifts her head to look at him. "Are you sure?"

He thinks for a moment, then nods firmly. "This I'm sure of. Let's do it."

She lets out a girlish squeal, dropping a quick kiss on his lips before practically bouncing off the bed, grabbing the dress bag and heading into the bathroom.

He chuckles and sits up, pushing himself off the bed and limping over to the closet where his suit hangs. His best friend was a big help in putting the thing together, and he's actually grateful for his assistance. Suits aren't his thing, but for her, he'll do it.

He's dressed when she emerges from the bathroom, just tying his tie as she approaches.

"Aren't you handsome?" She smiles warmly, sliding her arms around his waist. "I haven't seen you so dressed up since the Vegas Night fundraiser."

"Don't expect it too often." He warns her. "Once a year is about all you get."

"Fine by me." She laughs. "That's about all you'll get out of me, too."

He turns around, seeing her in her dress for the first time. It's a simple ivory dress, with thin straps, hitting her just above the knee. He knows she's wearing that corset underneath, and he wonders how the hell he's going to get through the ceremony.

"Wow." It's all he can manage to get out. "You look…amazing."

"Glad you like it." She answers, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "Ready?"

He gestures for her to go ahead of him, mostly so he can check out the rear view. She turns to look over her shoulder.

"Like what you see?" She teases.

"Of course." He reaches out to lightly smack her on the rear.

They continue teasing and joking with each other all the way to the car, and she directs him to the wedding chapel, pulling in under the drive-thru canopy.

"Good afternoon." They're greeted cheerfully. "Religious or civil ceremony?"

"Civil." He immediately speaks up.

The man at the window nods firmly, taking their IDs and marriage license. Soon he's back, ready to start the ceremony.

"We are gathered here to join these two in matrimony." The man glanced at him. "Do you take the woman to be your wife, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, as long as you both shall live?"

"Sure do." He answers with a smile, squeezing her hand.

"And you…" The man glances at her. "Do you take this man to be your husband, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do." She smiles warmly, squeezing his hand in response.

"Please take your rings…" They follow the man's directions, preparing to place the rings on each other's fingers.

"You." The man points to him. "Repeat after me. With this ring, I thee wed."

"With this ring, I thee wed." He repeats softly, sliding the ring on her finger.

"Now you." The man points to her. "Repeat after me. With this ring, I thee wed."

"With this ring, I thee wed." She repeats, soundly slightly choked, and she slides the ring onto his finger.

"By the power vested in me by the State of Nevada, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife." The man winks at him. "Kiss your bride."

He kisses her thoroughly, paying no mind to the popping flashbulbs around him. They've done it. They're hitched, married, and a million other synonyms.

They finally break off the kiss, finishing with one more brief kiss before leaving the drive-thru chapel behind. He squeals the tires pulling out of the parking lot, and she lets out a loud laugh in response.

When they pull into the parking spot back at the hotel, he pulls her into his arms for another long kiss. He's thrilled beyond all reason, flying high on the sensation. He still can't quite believe what's happened.

"We did it." He tells her after they break apart. "We really did it."

"We sure did." She laughs, her bright eyes sparkling with joy before she kisses him one more time. "I love you, _hubby_."

He can't help smiling widely at that. "And I love you, my _wife_."

They make their way back up to their suite, barely able to keep their hands off each other, ignoring the amused reactions from people around them.

"Just married, huh?" An older man asks in a gravelly voice.

"Just about half an hour ago." He answers, his arms still wrapped around her.

"Good for you, son." The man nods. "My wife and I were married for sixty years. Best years of my life. Just lost her last year." He gives them a steady look. "Take good care of each other, for as long as you've got."

"I fully intend to." He tells the man, a little something clutching at him. Most likely he would be the one to go first. Time isn't exactly on his side. Not only is he significantly older than her, but his body has taken so much abuse over the years that it's a wonder he's still here at all.

"Same here." She pipes up, squeezing him around the waist.

He swallows a little lump that's grown in his throat as they step off the elevator and leave the older man behind. Finally he's able to speak. "Do you really mean that? About taking care of me."

She stops, sighing a little as she takes his hands in hers, her thumb brushing over his ring. "Of course I did. In sickness and in health, remember?"

He huffs slightly, not entirely comfortable expressing what's on his mind. "Chances are good you'll be the one taking care of me. Hell, I'm pretty sure you'll outlive me." He squeezes her hands, his next words coming out roughly. "I…don't want to leave you behind."

"Let's not worry about that right now." She tells him softly. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. In the meantime, if you're that damn worried about it…take out a good insurance policy."

He can't help laughing at that, even as he thinks it's not a bad idea. It would be a good way to make sure she's taken care of down the road. "I'll do that. Now then…isn't there usually something that happens after the wedding?"

"Yes…" She smiles a little then, and they proceed to their suite, stepping inside.

He wants to strip her down right then and there, but he has one thing to do first. He takes out his phone and calls his friend.

"Hello?"

"It's me." He smirks at his friend's uncertain sounding voice. "The deed is done. I am officially a married man, so…no more hitting on me."

She snorts and rolls her eyes, shaking her head in amusement as his friend chuckles on the other end. "Congratulations. I hope someone took pictures."

"Yep. You'll see them when my _wife_ and I get home." He can't seem to wipe the broad smile off his face.

"Can't wait to see them." There's a brief pause. "I'm happy for you. Really happy for you."

"Thanks." He glances over at his wife, who's taking down her hair and taking off her jewelry. "I'm pretty damned happy for me, too."

"You deserve it." His friend tells him. "It's been a long time coming."

"Yeah." He doesn't trust his voice to speak further. He clears his throat and goes for bravado instead. "Well, it's been a blast chatting with you, but I've got a wedding night to start."

His friend laughs. "It's four in the afternoon where you are."

"No matter." He answers. "After the wedding comes the wedding night. You of all people should know that. See you when we get back."

He closes his phone before his friend has a chance to reply, shoving it back in his pocket and limping over to her, pressing a kiss into her shoulder. "Can I help you with that?"

"Of course."

He unzips her, revealing the same lingerie she was wearing the night before. His hands wander over her, taking in the full effect of the corset plus stockings, noticing something else.

"You naughty woman." He murmurs. "You went without underwear."

She laughs, turning to face him. "Like it?"

"Love it." He nudges her toward the bed, and she lies across it, watching as he undresses to join her.

They make love for the first time as husband and wife, passionate and tender, and it's just as good as it ever was. Possibly better now that they're legally bound.

Afterward, they curl up together in the large bed for a nap. It's been a busy day, and he just wants to enjoy this, the simple pleasure of lying with his wife. Before long they'll return to their regular lives, settling into the business of finding a new place to live, possibly bringing a child into the world together.

The thought scares him, but he pushes it aside. As long as he has this woman at his side, he's going to try not to worry too much about the future. Whatever it brings, he knows she'll be there. In sickness, in health, for richer, for poorer, for as long as they both shall live. He hopes with all his heart that it will be a good long time. He can't imagine it any other way.

THE END

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**And now I hand it back over to you, dear readers. Read and review.**


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